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THE JUNIOR CUP 





“THE CUT WAS WON! ’ 


,1 jftiiittil 








THE JUNIOR CUP 

BY ALLEN FRENCH 

Ik P 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
BERNARD J. ROSENMEYER 



NEW YORK 
THE CENTURY CO. 

1902 


& 


Copyright, 1900, 1901, by 
The Century Co. 


Published October, 1901 







The DeVinne Press. 


TO MY MOTHER 















LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Cup was Won! Frontispiece 

“You ’re a New Boy,” He Said, “and I ’m an Old 
One” 13 

Suddenly George Ran Chester to the Edge op the 
Raft and Pushed Him Overboard 31 

Game after Game Chester Struck Out 47 

He Raised the Knife and Struck 71 

The Boys Gathered around the Fire 77 

Chester and Rawson at Work on the Running 
Track 91 

The Boat Itself was Upside Down, the Sail Floated 
Wide, and there was no Sign, of George . . .101 

“All Over!” Cried George. “How Much Time, 
Jim?” 117 

Chester and Rawson Appeared in the Doorway . . 167 

There Chester and his Friend Sat, Holding to the 
Flagpole 203 

He would not Stay to Hear Further Words, but 
Clambered out upon the Gutter 225 

Marshall was Chaired and Shouldered till No One 
had Strength to Lift Him 243 



THE JUNIOR CUP 



THE JUNIOR CUP 

* 

CHAPTER I 

HE hurried steps of the father, de- 
scending the stairs, were heard 
through the closed door. The son 
turned away to hide the working 
of his face, and examined the pic- 
tures on the mantel, but through a film of tears. 
Mr. Holmes looked at the boy curiously and kindly, 
revolving in his mind the words which in private 
the father had said to him. 

“Chester is a good boy,” Mr. Fiske had said. 
“He is perfectly healthy and absolutely normal, 
like any other boy. There is only one fault of 
which I wish him cured: he has been spoiled by 
his aunt and sisters until he thinks too much of 
himself. His mother is dead, and my own sister 
has brought the children up. I don’t say,” said the 
earnest father, striving for exactitude, “ that he is 



4 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


conceited, but the home has been made to re- 
volve about him so much that now he takes as his 
own many things which when he gets to college 
he will have to prove his right to. He is a clever 
boy; he is quick in his studies and good in his 
sports. I have seen in him,” said the business 
man, smiling faintly as he thought of his own 
youth, “ many things that reminded me of his father 
at his age. I was clever in the field and at the 
desk, I was an overweening, presumptuous boy, 
and I had to learn the things that did me good at 
an age when they were very hard to learn, and 
when conceit had almost become a habit settled 
for life. Now Chester is not too old to learn ; he 
is only fifteen ; and I mean that he shall not have 
such a hard time as I had. I intend that his college 
life shall not be made bitter by unpopularity. I can- 
not teach him at home ; there is a whole regiment 
of feminine relatives against me— sisters, aunts, 
and cousins. So I give him to you, Mr. Holmes, 
for the two months of summer, hoping that in your 
camp of boys the nonsense will be knocked out of 
him.” 

“We will do it, sir, if we can,” answered Mr. 
Holmes. “ The thing is done every summer with 
more than one. Yet it is not always possible to 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


5 


make more than a beginning. It is difficult to 
change in two months the habit of years.” 

“You shall have him next year, too,” said Mr. 
Fiske, “if this year does him the slightest good. 
And I myself will meanwhile work,” he added 
grimly, “to reduce the pedestal which they keep 
for him at home. It is much to me that my son 
shall avoid his father’s mistakes.” 

The expression with which Mr. Fiske spoke, half 
of determination, half of affection, lingered long in 
Mr. Holmes’s memory. He saw then, and remem- 
bered, where the boy got his firm square jaw and 
high broad forehead, and from whom he received 
his pleasant brown eyes. “ The lad is his father’s 
son,” he thought. “ There are two ways of reach- 
ing him : through his mind and through his heart. 
He will respond to reason and to affection. If our 
system at camp is what it always has been, we 
shall give his nature the inclination that we wish.” 
As Mr. Holmes thought thus, Mr. Fiske rose to go, 
and called the boy into the room. 

“ Good-by, Chester,” he said seriously ; “ I wish 
you a good time. Remember, you must show these 
thirty boys, among whom you spend your summer, 
what you are. You must be what you pretend to 
be, and nothing less. Good luck to you.” 


6 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


They shook hands. “ Good-by, father,” said the 
boy, his trouble appearing in his face. So the 
earnest man, who wished his son to be better than 
himself, went away ; so the boy, separated for the 
first time from his home, turned to hide his tears ; 
and so the experienced trainer of boys, than whose 
work nothing is more delicate, his sympathies all 
enlisted in the struggle, studied for a while in 
silence the problem which he was to work out dur- 
ing the summer. At last he spoke. 

“Well, Chester,” he said cheerfully, “how do 
you like my room ? ” 

Chester’s healthy boy- nature was already assert- 
ing itself. He answered quickly, and soon was 
absorbed in the stories which his new guardian 
told him of life at Harvard. For it was in a 
tutor’s room that they stood, and Mr. Holmes, 
Boston born and bred, and Harvard taught, was 
steeped in the traditions of the college. 

“ I suppose that some day I shall have a room 
like this,” said the boy, his eyes sparkling with 
excitement, “with an oar over the mantel, and 
boxing-gloves hanging up, and silver cups about.” 

Mr. Holmes looked, smiling, at the trophies 
upon the walls. The oar was a reminder of a 
boat race with Yale ; his medals, his cups, were not 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


7 


many, but he knew they were choice, and indicated 
athletic distinction. Thinking of his past, of a 
position honestly earned and honorably held, con- 
scious, too, of iron muscles under his sober citizen’s 
clothes, able at any time to enter the field and dis- 
pute the palm with any later comers— with these 
half- active thoughts of pride of power, he looked 
at the boyish, undeveloped figure before him, and 
asked : 

“ Are n’t you a little too sure of what may never 
happen f Not every one can win even a medal.” 

The boy’s face fell, but it brightened when Mr. 
Holmes said: “ Yet there is one thing you can win 
this very summer if you are able.” 

“ And what is that ? ” cried Chester. 

“ The Junior Cup,” answered the teacher. 

“ Oh, what is it? Tell me about it ! ” 

Mr. Holmes looked at his watch before he an- 
swered : “We have half an hour before we start 
for the station. Sit down while I finish packing, 
and I will tell you about the camp. I must begin 
at the beginning. The camp is conducted by Mr. 
Dean, who is much older than I, and more experi- 
enced, though I am his chief helper. There will be 
about thirty boys there this summer, who go there 
for all sorts of purposes. Some go for their health, 


8 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


some because they have no father and mother, but 
only guardians and no home, and some because 
their father and mother wish them to.” 

“ Tell me why I go,” interrupted Chester. “ Aunt 
does not want me to, but father says I must, and 
he would n’t tell me why.” 

“ Then I shall not,” answered the teacher, simply. 

Chester hung his head at the rebuke, too direct 
for avoidance or excuse. Yet not so simply was he 
to learn the lessons of his life. Mr. Holmes con- 
tinued as if nothing had happened : “ The life is 

very simple : we live in two big shanties ; we eat in 
a third ; we bathe in the lake ; we play baseball. 
Every now and then we make a trip and explore 
the neighboring country— for we live in an out-of- 
the-way place, on the edge of the White Mountains, 
and there are hills, or even mountains, to climb, and 
seven lakes within seven miles of us. There is 
enough to do to occupy us for the summer in hav- 
ing a good time, and it easily happens that the sick 
boys get well, and the well boys get over their 
troubles, just while we seem to be doing nothing.” 
He paused to fold a coat. 

“ And the Cup ? ” asked Chester, after a moment. 

Mr. Holmes went on as well as he could for the 
constant moving necessitated by his packing. His 
voice sounded now clearly in the study, now muffled 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


9 


in the closet, now faint from the sleeping-room 
beyond. But Chester, listening closely, heard all 
he said. 

“ The whole life of the camp,” Mr. Holmes said, 
“ is athletic. From morning to night we run, we 
work with our hands, we swim, we play games. 
It is quite proper that some recognition be given 
to the one that does the best. So at the end of 
every year there is held a competition, in which the 
boys, little and big, must enter. The big boys are 
the Seniors, of the ages of seventeen and over. 
The little boys are the Juniors, of sixteen years 
and under. The events are the ordinary track and 
field events at any athletic games. In both classes 
a cup is given to the boy that does the best all- 
round work.” 

“And I can win the Junior Cup?” asked Ches- 
ter, eagerly. “ I, all alone ? ” 

“ If you are able,” said the other, dryly. Chester 
again hung his head, and this time blushed. 
“There is little in this world, Chester, my boy, 
that any one of us can accomplish alone.” 

Mr. Holmes had locked his bag, and looked again 
at his watch. 

“ Come,” he said, “ let us go. It is early, but we 
may be delayed.” 

In the cars to the depot, in the noisy streets, 


10 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


they talked little. In the waiting-room at the 
great station, over in one corner, they found gath- 
ered a little group that made an outcry as Chester 
and his conductor were perceived. The hoy hung 
hack as Mr. Holmes walked forward to greet his 
friends. He noticed how they crowded to welcome 
him, boys smaller than himself, hoys of his own 
age, and hoys so big that they seemed like men. 
And on the edges of the group, somewhat apart, 
were boys that said nothing, but simply looked on, 
newcomers like himself, shy among strangers. 

Presently Mr. Holmes led Chester to a pleasant- 
faced gentleman, of middle age and erect, yet gray- 
haired. About him were the littlest boys, who, as 
Chester came forward, stood aside and stared. 
The other boys in the group were looking at him 
inquisitively, and Chester felt that his measure 
was being taken. In the bustling crowd, in the 
noise, he suddenly felt alone. 

“ This is Mr. Dean,” said Mr. Holmes. u This is 
Chester Fiske, sir, one of the new boys.” 

“ I am glad to see you, Chester,” said the pleasant 
master, taking his hand. “I hope that you will 
have a jolly time with us this summer. Your fa- 
ther has written me of you.” 

For a moment, in the cheerful greeting, Chester 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


11 


again felt among friends. But a boy came, and 
pulling Mr. Dean’s sleeve, whispered a question ; 
Mr. Holmes had already turned away to speak to 
friends ; and Chester, quite alone, stood with the 
sense of his loneliness upon him. About him, the 
boys talked and laughed, or stood silent. He heard 
stories in progress of winter adventures, or noisy 
reminiscences of the past summer. Boarding- 
school boys were comparing notes, and a Groton 
and a St. Mark’s boy, had they not been old friends, 
would have come to blows over the merits of their 
schools. Chester felt that he was still being ex- 
amined, and for a time did not dare to raise his 
eyes to face his new companions. At last, as one 
near by evidently shifted position to look at him 
the better, Chester raised his head and looked the 
other squarely in the eye. 

It was a boy a little older than himself, taller, and 
heavier. He was dressed in long trousers, while 
Chester was dressed in short ; he wore a white col- 
lar, while Chester wore a cheviot shirt; he had a 
watch, while Chester had none. His face was fair 
and open, his eyes keen, his mouth handsome; 
curly hair framed his temples, under a straw hat. 
He stood in an attitude of self-confidence, one 
hand in his pocket, his hat tilted slightly backward. 


12 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


He looked at Chester for a moment coolly and 
critically, then came forward and offered him his 
hand. 

“You ’re a new boy,” he said, “and I ’m an old 
one. We ’ll have to know each other soon, and 
might as well begin now. My name is Marshall 
Moore.” 

There was an ease and fluency about the address 
that buried Chester deep in his own insignificance. 
He could only take the stranger’s hand and stam- 
mer out his own name. 

“Yes, I know,” said the other; “I heard Mr. 
Holmes introduce you. Awfully nice, is n’t he! 
And Mr. Dean ! But you wait till they catch you 
doing something that they don’t like ! And wait 
till you ask them to let you do something they 
don’t want you to do ! Do you play baseball ! ” 

The question was boyish, and loosened Chester’s 
tongue. 

“ Oh, yes,” he said eagerly, “ I play ball. I was 
catcher on our nine.” 

“ Is that so ! ” said the other, politely. “ And do 
you run ! Can you run the hundred yards ! ” 

“ No,” answered Chester. “ That is, I never did.” 

“Well, you ’ll learn. You ’ll have to. And can 
you swim ! ” 



“‘YOU’RE A NEW BOY,’ HE SAID, 


‘AND I ’M AN OLD ONE.’ ” 




































































































































































' 




* 






































































































THE JUNIOR CUP 


15 


“ Only a little,” confessed Chester. 

“You ’ll have to learn that, too,” said his 
acquaintance. “ I hope you ’ll like to be ducked.” 

“ Oh, Marshall ! ” cried some one from behind. 

“ Excuse me,” said the boy, and went to answer 
the call. Again, as Chester saw around him only 
the backs of boys, or heads turned away, he was 
immersed in the gulf of loneliness. But some one 
rubbed against him, and a voice at his elbow said, 
“ Hullo!” 

It was a smaller boy that this time Chester 
turned and faced, dark-haired and rosy, full of 
health, snub-nosed and straight-mouthed, brim- 
ming good nature. 

“Say,” he said confidingly, “is n’t it horrid to 
be a new boy ? I ’ve been a new boy lots of times 
at lots of places, and I ’m not used to it yet.” 

“ Oh,” cried Chester, with relief, “ you ’re a new 
boy, too ! ” 

“Yes,” said the other, easily. “My name ’s 
Rawson Lewis, but they call me Rat, ’cause I used 
to keep a white rat. I heard you say your name. 
I go to a military school in winter. Where do 
you go?” 

“ Oh, just to an ordinary school.” 

“ And live at home ? ” asked the other. A wist- 


16 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


ful expression flitted across his face. “ I have n’t 
any home, or any father or mother.” 

Chester could not understand how a boy could 
be without father or mother ; in his world at least 
one parent was a necessary part of every boy’s 
equipment. For a moment he wished to inquire 5 
but fearing to ask delicate personal questions, he 
changed the subject. 

“ How old are you ? ” he asked. 

“Fourteen,” said the other, promptly; “but 
I ’m small for my age. How old are you ! ” 

“ Fifteen,” answered Chester, with the conscious- 
ness that he was large for his age. 

“You ’re rather big,” commented the other, in 
easy conversation. “ I hope we ’ll sleep near each 
other. I wonder what they do to the new boys, 
anyway. Do you suppose they ’ll haze us ! ” 
“Haze us?” asked Chester, in astonishment. 
The idea was a new one, and he paused to con- 
sider it a moment. Then he added stiffly, “I 
guess they won’t haze me.” 

“ Oh, they won’t 1 ” said the Rat, coolly. “ Do 
you suppose that they won’t haze you if they want 
to, just because your name happens to be Chester 
Fiske! I never saw big boys anywhere that 
would n’t haze new boys if they got a chance.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


17 


Chester would have stiffened the more at the 
bluff directness of the other’s remarks, but his 
curiosity got the better of his dignity 0 “Then 
you ’ve been hazed ? ” he asked. 

“Oh, yes,” said the other, “more than once. 
Have you ever read ‘ Tom Brown at Rugby,’ the 
tossing in sheets and all that? Well, it ’s worse 
than that when they march you around the yard 
in your night-clothes, and make you shin the flag- 
pole and make a speech from half-way up.” 

“But do the teachers allow it?” asked Chester. 

“ Oh, they ’re never around just then,” answered 
the Rat. 

“ Well,” said a voice, at which they both started 
and turned, “ you need n’t worry ; you won’t be 
hazed at the camp.” 

It was one of the biggest of the boys, who, in a 
blue serge suit, white straw hat, cross tie, and 
choker collar, looked like a college student, which, 
in fact, in a few months he was to be. He stood 
and looked at the two smaller boys with a good- 
natured smile. 

“ We won’t haze you ; you need n’t worry,” he 
repeated. “ But new boys in camp must learn to 
behave properly, or it must be taught them. Now 
this boy,” he said, suddenly collaring the Rat, 


18 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“looks as if he knew that already. Do you?” he 
asked, shaking the little boy slightly; “do you, 
do you, do you ? ” 

Chester stood indignant, but the Rat adroitly 
stepped on the big boy’s toe. “ Yes, sir,” he said. 

“ Why, that ’s right ” ; and seizing Rawson by the 
armpits, the big boy raised him till their faces 
were on a level. “ I thought you looked as if you 
knew something. But you,” he said, dropping the 
Rat and turning to Chester, “look as if you 
would n’t be happy for a time in camp. You 
don’t like rough boys, do you ? ” 

Chester was silent. He could not see if this 
were seriousness or play. 

“ Well, cheer up ” ; and the big boy laid his hand 
on Chester’s shoulder. “You ’ll get used to us in 
time; we are n’t so bad as we seem.” As he 
turned away, Marshall Moore came up again. 

“ WTio is that ? ” asked Chester of him, eagerly. 

“Oh, that?” asked the curly-head. “That ’s 
George Tenney, the biggest boy in camp, except 
Jim Pierce. They two think they own the place. 
If you don’t look out and be nice to them, you ’ll 
get into trouble.” 

“Why, is he mean?” asked Chester, always 
sweeping in his use of adjectives. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


19 


“Well,” said Marshall, with a rising inflection, 
“ m-m— ” He raised his eyebrows and his shoul- 
ders, and turned away. 

“ Who ’s that ? ” asked the Eat. 

“His name is Marshall Something,” answered 
Chester. “ Don’t you think he is a nice-looking 
fellow ? ” 

“ No,” answered little Eawson, sturdily, “ I don’t. 
I like the big fellow best.” 

Now appeared before the boys Mr. Holmes and 
Mr. Dean, herding them together like sheep, and 
driving them to the train. A few relatives and 
friends went with them, and stood by the train 
until it started. So began the long journey to the 
north, and the jolting of the cars shook the boys 
up together like coins in a purse, till each new boy 
knew by sight and voice and name each one of 
the campers. Then a drive among the New 
Hampshire hills in two great barges brought 
them all to the view of a lake, with long low build- 
ings among the trees on the hither side. 

“ This is the camp,” said Marshall, who during 
much of the journey had been at Chester’s side. 
Though he was a year older than Chester, they 
had at once struck up a friendship. “ These are 
the shanties where we sleep ; that is the dining- 


20 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


room and kitchen; there is the pump where we 
wash. See, the flag is flying for our arrival! 
Won’t we have a jolly summer ! Hooray ! ” 

With shouts the boys tumbled from the teams ; 
with delight the old campers instantly dispersed 
about the buildings, seeking their known haunts ; 
with curiosity the new boys craned their necks 
and looked about them at the place which was to 
keep them for the summer. 

“Come with me,” said Marshall; and he led 
Chester about the camp. He showed him the 
shanties where the boys slept on wire cots placed 
side by side ; he explained at the pump how fresh 
boys were sometimes pumped upon; he showed 
him the dining-room and the kitchen, where the 
man cook was receiving the uproarious greetings 
of the boys. At last he led him to the edge of the 
gentle slope that overlooked the lake. 

“ There is the boat-house,” said Marshall. " In 
that grove of trees down there we undress for our 
swim every morning. Beyond them is a raft 
which we can’t see. Do you see that island over 
there, with the one tall tree? That is just half a 
mile from the raft. And that point of land across 
the lake we call Terror, from terra firma , you know, 
to distinguish it from the Island. It ’s just a mile 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


21 


from the boat-house. Those are our two distance 
swims, and you can’t go out in a rowboat until 
you have swum to the Island, nor go in a sailboat 
until you have swum Terror.” 

“ Why is that?” asked Chester. 

“ For safety,” said Marshall. “ Don’t you see ? ” 

“I see,” said Chester. “But is n’t it hard to 
swim a mile ! ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Marshall, easily ; “ I ’ve done it. 
Several of the boys do it every summer, and it ’s 
an event for the Cup.” 

They stood silent for a moment ; then, half aloud, 
Chester uttered his thought : “ Then I must swim 
Terror to win the Junior Cup.” 

Marshall turned round on him sharply, and his 
voice was metallic as he asked : 

“ So you mean to win the Junior Cup?” 


CHAPTER II 


HE characters of his new acquain- 
tances, from the bright Marshall 
and the little Rat to tall Jim 
Pierce and big George Tenney, 
walked all that night in Chester’s 
brain in mixed and curious dreams. They scat- 
tered in the morning before a mighty sound, and 
the boy opened his startled eyes upon a scene of 
quiet, where, to his ringing ears, the echo of a 
bugle seemed yet to linger. 

“ What was that f ” he asked, astonished. 

He raised himself in bed, and looked along a 
line of cots, each under blankets bearing a figure, 
some straight, some twisted, some quiet still, but 
some already moving. From the convolutions at 
his side, after much heaving, emerged at last the 
ruddy face of the Rat. 

“ That was reveille,” said he. “ If I don’t know 
anything else in this camp, I know that.” 

“ And what does it mean ? ” 



22 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


23 


“ It means get up,” said the little fellow, spring- 
ing out of bed. Chester followed more slowly, 
and then from all the cots the boys, some still 
sleepy, some eager for the events of the day, arose 
and dressed. 

The day before had been for Chester a day of 
new impressions, which came so fast that each 
seemed to blot out its predecessor. Cast among 
boys not one of whom he had ever seen before, 
their many personalities confused while they de- 
lighted him. He came among the helter-skelter 
crowd with a mind filled with home-made preju- 
dices, quick to condemn for ill-fitting clothes or 
awkward manner, hasty at deducing from a hat or 
a boot the character of its owner. Yet still he 
had imbibed from his father some of the natural 
American respect for a man, whoever he be, and 
in the uproar of the railway journey, rubbing 
elbows with boys of all sizes, who first of all were 
boys and after that were social units, he luckily 
forgot the inculcations of his aunt for the precepts 
of his father, and, a boy among boys, made friends 
with eager interest. 

The new day happily removed from Chester all 
temptations to return to his prejudices, for each 
boy, after his wash at the pump, put on a regu- 


24 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


lation costume of flannel shirt and homespun 
trousers, with cap and belt and stockings of the 
camp colors. Nothing was to distinguish them 
but face and figure, and at the clamorous breakfast- 
table, and soon after at the not less noisy ball-field, 
blue bodies and party-colored legs made, in exter- 
nals, absolute uniformity. For the whole summer 
nothing but personality was to show, and in time 
of need a boy could be helped by character alone. 

“ What did you think of Chester Fiske ? ” asked 
Mr. Dean of Mr. Holmes. They stood on the 
piazza of the dining-hall, where shouts reached 
them from the distant ball-field. “He seemed a 
pleasant, manly boy.” 

“ You know what his father sent him here for,” 
answered the younger man. “ I think that he was 
not wrong in anticipating trouble. The boy has 
been coddled by his female relatives till he has 
imbibed a few unfortunate ideas. He does n’t, for 
instance, understand anything like roughness. I 
noted that he was very stiff yesterday when one 
of the boys slapped him on the shoulder. I think 
his aunt has spoiled him with the idea that he is 
something finer than other boys, and I should 
guess that he has never had much to do with boys 
older than himself. I think that it will come hard 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


25 


to him to submit to the authority of other boys, 
even of George Tenney, for instance. He has been 
accustomed to persuasion, and I imagine that he 
will take correction very hard. It ?s time for the 
swim, sir.” 

Mr. Holmes took down the bugle and blew it. 

“You will be at the shore, will you not?” said 
Mr. Dean, a little anxiously, “ to be sure that no 
unnecessary roughness occurs. I always worry 
the first day on account of the ducking.” 

“ I ’ll be there, sir,” said the other, cheerfully. 
“ I ’ve spoken to the two oldest boys, to be sure 
that none of the little ones are really frightened, 
and that no boy is kept under too long.” 

The boys came flocking from ball-field and 
woods, hurrying for their bath. Among them, 
George Tenney and Jim Pierce were fooling with 
little Kawson, whose adroitness at baseball and 
quickness of reply in boyish jests pleased their 
fancy. Chester came with Marshall ; he had 
played well, for in his first scratch game he had 
made a home run. A mild elation filled his breast ; 
he noticed that the smaller boys already looked at 
him with respect, and he spoke with importance 
of his performances in games at home. Jim 
Pierce noticed him— the tall, quiet New-Yorker, 


26 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


handsome as Mercury. “ That boy is too fine,” he 
said to himself. 

About seventy feet off the lake shore was 
moored the raft, to which, with shouts and splash- 
ing, the adventurous spirits hastened when once 
their swimming-tights were donned. Himself 
ready for the plunge, but hesitating, Chester stood 
and watched the scramble as the foremost reached 
the raft. At his side was little Rawson ; Marshall 
was already in the water. 

“Don’t you hate to go out there?” asked the 
Rat. “ I do.” 

Shouts came to them from the raft. “ Here, all 
new boys, come out here ! ” 

“ Well,” said Rawson, with a sigh, “here goes ! ” 
From the rock where they stood he sprang into 
the water, and immediately began to swim steadily 
for the raft. 

“ Chester,” cried some one, “ can you swim ? ” 

“Yes,” he answered ruefully. 

“ Come out here, then ! ” 

Slowly he entered the water, and swam to the 
raft, where, once arrived, he stood with the other 
new boys awaiting their fate. 

His feelings were mixed and unpleasant. He 
knew what was coming : rough handling, which he 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


27 


could not avoid or resist. He had ducked boys in 
his time, but to be ducked himself seemed an 
entirely different thing; he could not see the 
reasonableness of it, and was very sullen. He 
revolved in his mind the idea that because those 
other boys had been at the camp longer than he, 
they nevertheless had no right to do with him as 
they chose. It was the custom of the camp, he 
knew, that each new boy should be ducked ; but 
what had the custom of the camp to do with him ? 
He saw no way of escaping the test, and slowly 
grew angry. 

Jim Pierce, with a magnificent backward dive, 
now sprang into the water; half a dozen more of 
the larger boys followed, Marshall among them. 
George Tenney, standing on the raft, evidently the 
master of ceremonies, ordered Marshall out. 

“What for?” cried Marshall, in anger. 

“Well, stay in, then,” answered George; “but 
don’t you touch any of the new boys. You ’re not 
to do any of this ducking. I know you too well.” 

“ Very well,” said Marshall. “ You think you ’re 
awful clever, George Tenney.” 

“ Get out, Marshall,” said Jim, who swam near 
him with easy strokes. 

Marshall turned to the shore with mutterings of 


28 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


discontent. George shouted after him, “ Don’t 
you duck the little boys, Marshall Moore.” 

Chester’s sullen mood increased as the word 
“ tyrant ” came into his mind. He preferred to be 
ducked by Marshall if he must be ducked by any 
one. They were tyrants, these two big boys. 
What right had they to order Marshall so ? The 
right of force, he answered to himself, bombasti- 
cally. And his anger grew as he saw at the shore 
Mr. Holmes sitting quietly among the trees. Why 
did n’t he interfere ? 

Now George approached Rawson and said: 
“ Come, little Rat, get into the water ! ” 

“Don’t drown me, now,” said Rawson, with a 
wry face ; and he approached the edge of the raft 
and jumped in. One of the boys in the water 
approached him, and putting his hand on the 
shoulder of the swimming boy, forced him under 
water. It was evident next that he caught him 
with his feet, and trod him still deeper; then 
swimming quickly to one side, he waited for the 
little boy to rise. In a moment Rawson appeared, 
and began to puff loudly. 

“ Oh, say,” he cried, “ that was fine ! ” The boys 
laughed, and even some of the trembling new boys 
laughed with the rest. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


29 


“ Again,” said Jim Pierce; and another boy 
seized the Rat, and sent him down again. For a 
longer time he remained under water, and then 
appearing, laughed as before. 

“ Once more,” cried Jim, and himself seized the 
little fellow and pushed him down unresisting. 
Then he himself disappeared, and only bubbles 
rose. It seemed a long time that they were gone ; 
at last they rose together, the older boy holding 
up the younger. 

“ How are you ! ” he asked. 

Rawson was game to the last, for after heavy 
panting, catching his breath, he said: “Is that 
all? For if it is n’t I am nearly drowned, and if 
it is I ’m all right.” 

“G-et out of this, you rascal,” answered Jim, 
and he pushed the little fellow to the raft, where, 
climbing out, he sat with his legs in the water to 
watch the trouble of his companions. 

“ Oh, not so worse,” he said cheerfully, in 
school-boy slang. 

At the shore, among thk trees, and a little 
anxious, Mr. Holmes was talking to himself. “ I 
feel as Mr. Dean does,” he said. “ These things do 
the boys good, for the rough test brings out their 
manhood. And I feel sure that I can trust Jim 


30 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


and George not to go too far. But I wish we had 
some kindlier process.” 

Meanwhile the other boys took their medicine 
like men, till there were left on the raft only 
Chester and one other trembling boy. “ Oh, 
are n’t you afraid!” cried this poor lad. “You 
might drown while you were under there ! ” 

George approached him. “Now it is your 
turn,” he said. “ Fall in, my boy.” But when he 
put his hand upon his shoulder to urge him to 
the edge, the boy clung to him frantically and 
burst out crying. 

“Why,” said the big boy, half roughly, half 
kindly. “All right, Useless, you need n’t go in. 
Now, Chester, jump.” 

But Chester only stood firmly and looked him 
in the eye. His whole nature steeled itself for 
resistance. George surveyed him in perfect com- 
prehension. 

“You won’t!” he asked cheerfully. “We have 
boys here once in a while that are just like you. 
I told you yesterday that you would have a hard 
time getting used to camp. Come now, Chester, 
do like the other boys, and go in.” But Chester 
would not budge. 

“ Then squeal, like Tommy here, and we ’ll let 
you off.” 




“SUDDENLY GEORGE RAN CHESTER TO THE EDGE 

PUSHED HIM OVERBOARD.’' 


OF THE RAFT AND 



THE JUNIOR CUP 


33 


“ No l ” said Chester, contemptuously. “ I won’t 
squeal ! 19 

Suddenly George seized him with both hands 
and twirled him round, caught him by the arms 
from behind, and, with a great shout of laughter, 
ran him to the edge of the raft and pushed him 
overboard. With an enormous splash Chester 
left the raft, but kept his head above water, and 
in a moment recovered himself. He remained 
treading water a few yards away from the raft. 

“ Look out, you fellows,” said George, from the 
raft ; “ he ’s dangerous.” 

And in truth he was dangerous, as with glitter- 
ing eyes, indignant, he waited who should first 
approach him. Since he was not a practised 
swimmer, he could not escape from the encircling 
boys; and as to returning to the raft, George 
barred that passage. The boys remained at a lit- 
tle distance, and did not offer to approach him. 
After a minute the dignity of his position seemed 
less in Chester’s eyes, as he grew tired of the 
unaccustomed exercise. Then suddenly muscular 
weariness seized him, and he was on the point of 
crying out: “Well, duck me, and let ’s have it 
over.” 

But at that moment Jim Pierce disappeared 


34 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


from the surface, and the water closed over 
his head with a slight ripple. Chester saw, and 
caught his breath, knowing that in a moment the 
lithe figure, gliding like a shadow in the depths, 
would seize him. For a moment he waited, seeing 
smiles of triumph on the faces of the waiting 
boys, and with perplexity he felt that he, who 
never in his life before had been where neither his 
own skill nor strength, nor his aunt, nor his fam- 
ily could help him, now could not evade that cer- 
tain seizure. Then suddenly a firm grasp was laid 
upon his ankle, and with a gurgle he was dragged 
under water. The water roared in his ears as it 
filled them, and with his involuntary, but immedi- 
ately checked, catching of the breath, it ran into 
his mouth. The clutch left his ankle and was put 
upon his shoulders. Down, down he went. He 
felt that hands and feet were pushing him. It 
seemed a long time, when suddenly the weight 
was removed. “ I shall go up now,” he thought ; 
but still the water rang in his ears, as moments 
seemed to pass. The breath was bursting in his 
chest when at last his head emerged from the 
water. 

He shook the water out of his eyes, and caught 
eagerly for new breath as he looked about him. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


35 


The boys were laughing, but in his confusion he 
did not notice them, for the raft was not where it 
ought to be, and at first he could not find it. 
When at last he saw it and struck out for it, the 
boys behind him called out, “ Once more ! ” and he 
felt with sudden dread that perhaps they were 
coming up behind him. But George Tenney 
called, “No.” 

“ That ’s enough,” he said. “ Chester does n’t like 
it, and besides, he does n’t seem to be able to swim 
as well as the others. We ’ll let him off the rest.” 
He helped the weary boy on to the raft, then, 
diving deep, engaged with the other boys in a 
game of tag. 

“That ’s all over,” said the Bat, slipping into 
the water. “ It was n’t so bad, after all. But you 
were foolish, Chester,” he said, as he peered over 
the edge at his friend, now quickly recovering. 
“ Why would n’t you let them duck you 1 Do you 
think you own the camp 1 ” 

“Never mind,” said Chester, surlily. Many 
thoughts ran through his head: the memory of 
his helplessness; the thought that all the boys, 
except poor shivering Tommy, were against him 
in this matter ; George’s saying that he could not 
swim so well as the others ; the conviction, which 


36 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


honestly he could not repress, that the ducking 
was not so had as might have been ; and finally the 
Rat’s frank imputation that he was too important. 
He could not answer some of these reproaches 
except by acknowledgment of error— a new 
experience, a new thought, that among boys, in 
strictly boyish matters, he could be wrong. In 
discontent at himself, in growing anger at every- 
thing, he sat in sullen silence on the raft. 

Rawson thought he had offended, and in his 
quick, affectionate way he climbed out to beg par- 
don. “I ’m sorry,” he said, putting his clammy 
hand on Chester’s dripping shoulder. “I did n’t 
mean to hurt your feelings, Chester.” 

Chester shook him off. u Let me alone,” he said. 

“Oh,” said Rawson, drawing back. He stood, 
puzzled what to say. 

Chester sat a moment longer without looking up. 
That he had rudely repelled a friendly advance 
brought fresh reproaches to his smarting spirit. 
Yet he could not bring himself to apologize. He 
knew that in a moment the waiting boy would 
speak to him again, and in a sudden access 
of resentment against any one for being kind 
to him, he rose hastily, went to the edge of the 
raft, let himself into the water, and swam quickly 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


37 


to the shore. Behind him he knew the little fellow 
stood looking after him with troubled gaze, and 
in his pain it gave him savage pleasure that he 
had given pain to some one else. 

Splashing by the shore were the little boys who 
could not swim. On the beach was Marshall, 
already dressing amid many mutterings. “ So 
you ’ve got enough, too ? ” he asked. “ I told you 
what George and Jim were like. They ’re a 
peachy pair, they are, bullying all the little fellows 
in the camp, and keeping it all to themselves, as if 
no one else had a right to boss the new boys. 
Hurry up, Chester, and we will go off somewhere 
by ourselves.” 

Mr. Holmes sat at a little distance, with his eye 
on all the boys in case of accident. Chester knew 
that he had seen what had passed. “ I suppose he 
thinks I ’m a fool, too,” he said angrily, rubbing 
himself so that the rough towel hurt his skin. 
“But I don’t care; it was mean.” And so he 
dressed, and as the other boys came out of the 
water at the master’s summons, he and Marshall 
went away into the woods, to work off their dis- 
content by roaming alone until dinner-time. And 
Marshall told him all the stories that he knew of 
George Tenney and Jim Pierce. 


38 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


But poor little Rawson was troubled still, and 
watched them ruefully as they disappeared among 
the trees. His sturdy little soul had been seized 
from the first with an affection for Chester which 
even his mistakes and his rebuff had not shaken 
off. A boy— and this is true, let who will gainsay 
it— is in general a poor judge of other boys. Go 
among them; witness the down-treading of the 
weak, the complete rejection of those in any way 
exceptional or eccentric ; and then see in later life 
how in many cases those boys, misunderstood by 
their fellows, take their places among men as men 
of mark. A boy judges by externals alone, by 
what appears on the surface. But the Rat, led by 
a true sympathy, which his homeless life had 
trained and strengthened rather than weakened 
and destroyed, had seized upon Chester in his 
heart, and stubbornly refused to give him up. 

“ What are you bothering about, Rawson f ” asked 
George of him. “ Is it Chester Fiske ? Cheer up ; 
he is n’t worth it; he 9 s only another one like 
Marshall” 

“ Oh, George, he is n’t,” cried the little fellow, 
eagerly. “ He ’s a nice boy ; I know he is.” 

“ And you never knew him before yesterday 1 ” 
asked Jim Pierce, in some wonder. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


39 


“No; but be ’s a nice fellow, and be ’ll show it 
yet, if you ’ll only wait.” 

“Well, be ’d better burry, then,” said George; 
and, as if dismissing tbe subject, be began to dry 
bimself with bis towel. 

“ I ’ll make bim show it,” cried Rawson, 
earnestly. 

George turned and regarded bim soberly. 

“Well, you are a nice little fellow, anyway!” 
be said. 

“Never mind about me,” said tbe Rat, dully. 
He was cast down that tbe other boys would not 
believe bim. But Mr. Holmes approached bim 
and laid his hand upon bis shoulder. 

“ Stick to it, Rawson,” be said. “ Others besides 
you are interested in Chester.” 

And Mr. Holmes, when be returned to camp, 
described the whole incident to Mr. Dean. “ I did 
not interfere,” be said, “ because I think Chester 
is tbe kind of boy that learns best by experience. 
He is a boy of mind and character, and I think 
that tbe lesson which we wish bim to learn will 
most surely be mastered by leaving him for a 
while to bimself. His experiences may be bitter, 
but they will be very salutary.” 

Yet still for a while Chester was to persist in 


40 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


his headstrong way. Just before dinner he came 
face to face with George and Jim, and George spoke 
to him kindly, with the thought of Rawson in 
his mind. 

“ I am sorry, Chester,” he said, “ if we were too 
rough for you this morning.” 

But Chester flung away. “Ob, yes,” he said 
over his shoulder ; “ a lot you ’re sorry ! ” 


CHAPTER III 


HE memory of his ducking stuck 
in Chester’s mind, and was not 
rendered less bitter by subsequent 
impressions. It was soon evi- 
dent that the older boys, their 
first advances repelled, were not disposed to 
extend to him any special kindnesses. Little 
Rawson stood high in their favor, as did sev- 
eral of the other new boys ; and their immediate 
followers, a sort of feudal servitorship, formed 
around George and Jim a band from which— 
Chester felt it sometimes with regret, sometimes 
with stubborn pride— he was excluded. It was 
very evident that these were the boys that got the 
most pleasure out of camp life. There were nearly 
twenty of them, and their jollifications were con- 
stant. They split into parties for boating, fishing, 
and tramping, in all of which pleasures Chester 
was’ cast upon the society of Marshall or the few 
remaining boys. 



41 


42 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Of this small remainder some followed Marshall 
as a sort of leader. The others, a half-dozen of 
them, were either boys that chummed in pairs, 
or solitary individuals who, when opportunity 
offered, went in quiet about their own pursuits, 
absorbed in their own thoughts. Those who clus- 
tered around Marshall were mostly of the smaller 
boys, personalities without remark, except that 
miserable Tommy, whose lacking spirit made him 
a fit errand-boy for him that would throw him a 
sweetmeat or kind words. These Marshall gave 
in plenty; he always seemed to have enough of 
candy, and his honeyed tongue dropped compli- 
ments to lime poor Tommy’s stumbling feet. 

With Chester he was more bluff ; yet the sweet 
words had their effect, though hid in spice. A 
bewildering maze was spun about poor Chester, 
formed of Marshall’s words and actions. For now 
his athletic excellence would carelessly be praised, 
and now he was appealed to for information upon 
some point of boyish lore ; now his help would be 
desired in the launching of a boat or the making of 
a kite, and now his advice would be asked in some 
undertaking of momentary importance. And like 
the poor chicken that takes the bread though 
steeped in wine, our boy swallowed each new piece 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


43 


of flattery, and as it warmed his heart he thought 
that it was good. 

Yet for all this he had a sense of vague dissatis- 
faction which never left him, even as the weeks 
passed. That necessity for attention, encourage- 
ment, praise, so carefully cultivated by his indul- 
gent aunt, drove him to the society of those who 
would give it him. Yet his native sense of fair- 
ness, an honesty inherited from generations of 
rigid New England pietists, pricked him like a 
bur, not sharp, but constant; and his uncomfor- 
table conscience, Puritan still in spite of occasional 
infiltrations of alien stock, kept uneasy the think- 
ing mind which Mr. Holmes trusted confidently, 
and which Marshall wished to lull to quiet. For 
Chester knew, and he could not conceal from him- 
self the knowledge, that in athletics, as well as in 
his mental quickness, he was no more remarkable 
than many others in the camp. 

In the two general sports of baseball and swim- 
ming there was no line drawn between the fol- 
lowers of George and those of Marshall. For of 
the thirty boys in camp not all played baseball, 
and of those that played not all played well. A 
bare eighteen were found to make up two nines, 
who day after day disputed the palm with varying 


44 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


success; and there Chester and Marshall played 
with the rest. The swim occurred regularly every 
day at the same hour ; for fear of accidents, no boy 
was allowed to bathe except with the others, when 
Mr. Holmes and the two older boys were there to 
keep a watchful eye on all the rest. So it hap- 
pened that every day, in the morning at the lake, 
in the afternoon at the ball-field, Chester had con- 
stant opportunity to measure himself with the 
other boys. And what he found was not pleasing 
to him. 

“You don’t use your feet right in swimming, 
Chester,” said to him one day Rawson, as he 
watched his friend swimming by the raft. “Your 
kick is all wrong.” 

“I can swim as fast as you,” said Chester, 
quickly. 

“ Try it, now,” said quiet Jim, who stood looking 
on. “Jump in, little Rat, and race him to the shore.” 

Half reluctant, half willing, Rawson put himself 
at Chester’s side. “It does n’t prove anything if 
you beat me,” he said. “Your kick might be 
wrong, all the same.” But when they started at 
the word he forged slowly ahead. Laying his 
head sideways in the water, swimming with the 
underhand side stroke, he beat Chester by several 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


45 


feet in the race to the shore. Much cast down, 
yet endeavoring not to show it, Chester regained 
the raft. He felt that the other boys had been in- 
terested in the race, and had an uncomfortable 
sense that they were glad of his defeat. 

“ It ’s true, Chester,” said George Tenney, who 
had been looking on critically. “ You have a poor 
stroke. Watch me, now, and I ’ll show you. This 
is the way you swim. Now,” he said, after a few 
strokes, “ compare that with this. Do you see the 
difference ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Chester, watching closely, interested 
in spite of his mortification. 

“ Well,” said George, treading water, “ bear that 
in mind, now, and practise it. It makes all the 
difference in the world, in a distance swim, whe- 
ther each stroke sends you ahead five feet or 
three.” 

In diving, too, he found that he had something 
to learn, and that a general sprawl which carries 
one under water, though it may be received in 
some circles as a dive, in others is frankly called a 
“ belly-flopper .” Chester’s first performance, in the 
style that his sisters applauded, was received by 
the boys, many of them experts, and all critics, at 
first with silence, and then with delight. 


46 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ My ! ” said one, and said no more. 

“That must have hurt,” said another, judicially. 

“ Say, Chester,” called a third, “ come out here 
and let us see how pink you are all up and down 
your front.” 

Chester was too sulky to speak. 

“You did n’t do it right, Chester,” said Mr. Holmes, 
kindly, from his boat. “ You must get your feet 
higher up in the air, so that your head and body go 
in clean, without a splash. And your legs ought 
to be together, not apart; and straight, not bent. 
Watch Rawson, now.” 

And so for the second time Chester had to 
acknowledge that the Rat could beat him. 

On the baseball-field, further, he found that he 
had by no means the easy supremacy that was his 
at home. For never, as Mr. Holmes had surmised, 
had he played with boys older than himself. His 
first home run was not duplicated, for as soon 
as the nines were once steadily at work their 
pitchers got down into first-class training. Day 
after day he stood up to Jim Pierce, who befooled 
him with curves. Game after game he struck out, 
not once, but oftener, while, try as he might, it 
seemed that when he hit the ball it never would 
go outside the diamond. With discouragement, 



GAME AFTER GAME CHESTER STRUCK OUT.” 



THE JUNIOR CUP 


49 


he saw other boys make fierce grounders, or long 
flies to the out-field; and he heard remarks that 
showed him that he was considered a poor batter. 

At last Mr. Holmes, who sometimes played and 
sometimes watched, offered Chester a suggestion. 
He spoke with a thoughtful air that would have 
shown the boy, had he been quick at noticing, 
that his batting had been the subject of the mas- 
ter’s careful study. “I think, Chester,” he said, 
“that you do not take enough pains in judging 
the ball. I ’m afraid that you ’ve been used to 
pitchers that could n’t curve, for the moment that 
Jim pitches you decide where the ball is to go, 
and then you ‘swat’ at it, as the boys say, and 
you either miss it, or hit it so that it does n’t go 
very far. Is n’t that so, Jim ? ” 

Jim laughed from the pitcher’s box. “Yes, 
that ’s so, Mr. Holmes,” he said. “ Chester ’s too 
hot-headed for a good batter. He strikes at any- 
thing. All I have to do is to give him three bad 
balls, and he strikes himself out.” 

“You see, Chester,” said the master, smiling, 
“Jim has been studying you, and he knows all 
your weaknesses. Now you turn to and study 
him, and see if you can’t get the better of him.” 

On Chester’s nine George Tenney was pitcher. 


50 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


He threw a furious, uncertain ball, which Ches- 
ter, who was the only one that had had experience 
behind the bat, was expected to hold. It was a 
new experience when the first whizzing ball struck 
aside his hands and caught him full upon the 
mask. The second ball landed upon his unpro- 
tected right hand. 

“ My dear boy ! My dear boy ! ” cried George. 
“You must n’t do that ! You won’t have a finger 
left to throw with. Catch every ball in your mit.” 

“How can I,” asked Chester, “when they come 
on my right side ! ” 

“Why, don’t you know?” asked George. 
“Here,” he said, turning to the first-baseman, 
“ show Chester how to get his mit in the way of a 
ball.” So the game was suspended for a few mo- 
ments while Chester took a lesson in the use of 
the glove. 

They struck deep, those lessons at the lake and 
on the field. In spite of biting mortification, 
Chester was persistent in the attempt to overcome 
his faults, and he learned to put his pride in his 
pocket and take a lesson from another boy. It 
became with him a familiar idea that others could 
surpass him. And slowly he mastered the best 
swimming stroke ; slowly he learned how to throw 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


51 


liis rigid body at the right angle into the waiting 
water ; slowly he acquired the quick, unerring judg- 
ment necessary for the catcher or the batter. 

“You make me tired, Chester,” said to him Jim 
one day, as, dropping his bat, our boy trotted lei- 
surely to first base. “A base hit last time you 
came to the bat, and now a base on balls.” 

“ Oh,” said Rawson, who followed Chester to the 
plate, “ Chester ’s getting a good eye, he is.” 

And these words were sweet as honey to Ches- 
ter’s soul, eager for praise, for he was learning to 
know the praise that was honorably earned. For 
this reason he grew tired, sometimes, of the praise 
that he received from Marshall ; yet he was loyal 
to the one boy in camp— let us except the Rat— 
who from the first showed him unvarying kind- 
ness. And so he continued in Marshall’s society, 
rejecting sometimes, though with regret, the re- 
quests which Rawson made him to come with 
some of the other boys. For he knew well that 
he was Marshall’s best companion, and that with- 
out him his friend would have only Tommy and 
the other insignificants for associates. 

Yet there existed in Chester always an uncer- 
tainty as to what sort of a boy the other was. He 
saw of him nothing but his best side, and that was 


52 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


fine and fair enongli ; but he knew that other boys 
in the camp, little Eawson for instance, drew away 
from Marshall as one draws from pitch, which is 
fine and fair as it flows from its tree, but sticks 
and dirties where it touches. Chester did not yet 
know how to read in the face what lies in the 
heart, nor as yet had enough occurred to reveal 
him to himself as ignorant and inexperienced. He 
had not enough distrust of his own judgment to 
study carefully each action of his companion, and 
so, with his instinctive desire to go where boys 
were kind to him, he paid little attention to that 
other instinct that told him something was wrong. 
And, for his part, Marshall mistook the boy he 
had to deal with, deeming him at last ready to 
share in the acts in which he took pleasure. And 
so in the end that happened which caused a breach 
between them, and threw Chester entirely upon 
his own resources. 

One day Chester, sitting on his cot just sealing 
a letter to his home, looked up and saw Marshall 
and Tommy stealthily approaching. Under his 
arm Marshall carried a square box with familiar 
label, and Tommy followed him as a cat follows 
the cook that bears a dish. 

“ Come along, Chester,” said Marshall. “ Here ’s 
something for us three.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


53 


“ Marshmallows ! ” cried Chester, springing np. 
“ Let ’s eat them here ! ” 

“No; out in the woods,” said Marshall. “The 
others won’t interrupt us there.” 

Out in the woods, Marshall opened the box of 
the floury confection, and handed the marshmal- 
lows generously about. 

“ They are fresh ! ” cried Tommy, in ecstasy. 
“ M-m — m-m ! ” And he filled his mouth. 

“ Tommy would eat anything if it were sweet,” 
said Marshall, humorously, while Chester, too, 
was amused at the sight. “ Poor Tom ! I believe 
he would put sugar on his meat.” 

But as they sat eating and joking, a knot of 
boys burst suddenly into their retreat, and Mar- 
shall closed the box in confusion, endeavoring 
to conceal it. Chester saw with surprise that this 
was no accidental interruption. The newcomers 
were three— Jim Pierce, Eawson, and Archie Sim- 
mons, the smallest boy in camp. Though Jim 
was quiet and composed as usual, the other two 
were excited; Archie had been crying, and tears 
were still on his cheeks, while Chester noticed, 
with great astonishment, that Rawson darted at 
him glances of anger. 

“ There,” cried Archie, still blubbering, “ there ’s 
my box ! ” 


54 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Bawson advanced, and though much smaller 
than Marshall, boldly snatched the box out of his 
hands. Then he opened it. 

“ Nearly half gone ! ” he cried ; and then, over- 
come with disgust, he sputtered : “ Oh, you bully ! 
Oh, you sneak ! ” Words failed him. 

Marshall made no response, and then Jim, nei- 
ther angry nor excited, advanced and shook his 
finger warningly in his face. “Now, Marshall,” 
he said, “ this is the last time ; do you understand ? 
One more, and I ’ll tell Mr. Dean, and then you ’ll 
leave the camp. But you won’t go without a good 
licking from me. And, Chester, I am disappointed 
in you. I did n’t expect this from you.” 

Marshall stood without a word^and Tommy 
crouched in abasement, while Jim turned and 
walked away, with Archie following, clutching his 
box. Chester stared at Marshall, amazed, and then 
at Bawson, who, yet lingering, looked at the three 
with a face in which there shone a gleam of hope. 

“ Marshall ! ” cried Chester, as an idea struggled 
for lodgment in his mind. “ Bawson ! ” 

“ Did n’t you know ? ” cried Bawson, eagerly. 

“ What f ” asked Chester. 

“ Why, that Marshall took those marshmallows 
from Archie, while Tommy held him.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


55 


“ You liar ! ” cried Marshall, furiously. Spring- 
ing forward, he stood over the little boy, his hand 
upraised. 

Eawson gave way not a step. “ Don’t touch 
me, Marshall ! ” he cried ; and in his tense figure 
and shaking voice there was a threat which the 
bigger boy could not disregard. But while Mar- 
shall stood hesitating, Chester advanced, and 
catching him by the arm, turned him about and 
looked into his face. 

“ Did you take them, Marshall ? ” he asked. 

“No,” said Marshall, loudly; “I—” 

But Chester interrupted him, for on Marshall’s 
face the truth was not to be concealed. 

“ Oh, Marshall,” he cried, “ you did ! ” And in 
that cry were disappointment and reproach in 
such measure that Marshall stood speechless, 
without defense. 

Chester turned from him quickly, and struck 
his hands together. “And the boys thought I 
knew of it!” he said aloud. Then suddenly he 
darted into the path that led from the spot, and 
ran hastily on the footsteps of Jim and Archie. 
Eawson followed. In Chester’s mind everything 
was confused, and he could distinguish but one 
thing clearly: that his good name was at stake, 


56 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


and he must set himself right before the other 
boys. Did every one in the camp think him a 
thief? With catching breath, stumbling, he 
reached at last the cleared ground near the shan- 
ties, where stood a group of boys, and among 
them Jim and George. To Jim ran Chester 
directly. 

“ Oh, Jim,” he cried, panting, “ I did n’t do it ! 
I did n’t know anything about it ! ” 

For a moment his statement was received in 
silence. “Well,” said Jim, at last, “all right!” 
But there was such coldness in his tone that Ches- 
ter’s heart sank. They could not disbelieve him, 
such sincerity was in his face and words ; yet what 
was against him in the minds of each of the two 
older boys was the thought that it was mean of 
him to clear himself of this one scrape, when, in 
fact, he had been guilty in other ones, equally 
bad. For both George and Jim, being the ones to 
whom all complaints were made, knew of cases of 
the loss of candy, or of other boyish perishable 
treasures which had fallen into the hands of Mar- 
shall, sometimes by force, sometimes by stealth, 
and believed firmly that Chester had been a willing 
sharer in the spoil. 

He stood in silence before this prejudiced tribu- 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


57 


nal, knowing that something was wrong. He 
longed to cry out to George and Jim, “ Oh, don’t 
turn me away! Let me be one of you!” Per- 
haps if he had, his later troubles would have van- 
ished. But he had never so humbled himself to 
any one, and besides, other boys stood around star- 
ing, and he feared lest they should misunderstand 
him. And while he stood uncertain, the big boys 
turned away. “All right, Chester,” they said, 
even though their voices expressed that it was not 
all right. “ Come, boys.” And the group moved 
away and left him standing alone with Rawson. 

“ Oh, Rawson,” he said unhappily, “ no one will 
have anything to do with me ! ” 

“Never mind,” said Rawson, sturdily; “I ’ll 
stand by you ! ” 

Just then Marshall appeared, coming cautiously 
down the path. He hesitated when he saw Raw- 
son, but then advanced and spoke to Chester as if 
in explanation. “See here, Chester,” he said; “I 
want to tell you—” 

But Chester turned on him in anger. At that 
moment it seemed to him as if all his troubles 
came from Marshall alone. “ Don’t speak to me,” 
he cried. “ You— you robber ! ” 

Marshall threw up his head and tossed his curls 


58 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


back haughtily. “ Oh, well,” he said, with a sneer 
on his handsome mouth, “you think yourself 
mighty fine. But we ’ll see ! I ’ll have something 
to tell the boys about you,” he said, as he turned 
away, “ that will amuse them. About your swim- 
ming Terror, and winning the Junior Cup.” And 
he laughed as he disappeared in the bushes. 

“What did he mean, Chester?” asked Rawson. 
“ Did you tell him that you were going to swim 
Terror and win the Junior Cup?” 

“No,” answered Chester, uncomfortably; “but 
I said I wished to.” 

“Well, you did make a mistake ! ” said Rawson, 
decidedly. 

“I know I did,” said Chester, humbly. But 
then, seeing that the Rat had more to say, he 
asked : “ What do you mean ? ” 

“Because,” said Rawson, “Marshall means to 
win the Cup himself. He is a first-rate athlete, 
and he nearly won it last year.” 

Chester felt himself a fool, but he felt the worse 
the very next day. He began to hear meaning 
questions when he was about. “Are you swim- 
ming Terror this morning?” one boy would ask 
another. Or another would shout clear across the 
ball-field, to be answered with titters, “ Have you 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


59 


got your eye on the Junior Cup % ” And Chester’s 
cheeks and forehead burned at each fling*. His 
measure of bitterness was full: he was an object 
of ridicule to the boys. 


CHAPTER IV 



IN the third day after his break with 
Marshall there came to Chester the 
j realization of his position in the 
camp. He fonnd himself between 
j two opposed sides, one of which, 


as it seemed to his sensitive fancy, rejected him, 
and one which he himself rejected. He wan- 
dered about alone. To add to his misfortunes, 
Mr. Holmes had taken the Rat with him on an 
errand to the neighboring town, and so Chester 
was deprived all day long of the presence in camp 
of the two persons who alone could give him com- 
fort. In the morning at the lake, in the afternoon 
at the ball-field, though he played and swam with 
the rest, he spoke to few, and few to him. He was 
pleased for a half-hour with the society of some of 
the little boys, who even in two days had learned 
to like him because he was kind to them ; and he 
was kind to them because he needed their kind- 


60 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


61 


ness in return. But they left him to follow Jim 
Pierce, who was their old friend, and who, besides, 
could cause marvelous disappearances of a half- 
dollar. It was a lonely day; Chester wanted to 
go to Mr. Dean and ask to be sent home. 

Toward evening Mr. Holmes returned with 
Rawson, and it relieved Chester to see their 
friendly faces once more in camp. But more than 
that : he found that they brought with them the 
promise of occupation and interest. They had 
gone to make certain preparations for a forthcom- 
ing excursion, a trip up the neighboring moun- 
tain, visible from the camp. The announcement 
of this was made by Mr. Holmes at supper. He 
described the trip, which was to take a day and a 
night, and on which only the strongest would be 
allowed to go ; explained what they should have to 
carry; told how they would see the sunset from 
the summit, and spend the night in a shelter a lit- 
tle way from the top ; said that with red fire sig- 
nals would be exchanged between the boys in the 
camp and those on the mountain ; and finally fin- 
ished his speech by calling for volunteers. 

There was a rush at him of twenty boys, each 
shouting “I!” Chester hesitated for a moment,, 
but his desire to go was too great, and in a mo- 


62 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


ment lie joined the rest. From the crowd that 
surrounded him, Mr. Holmes sent first one boy 
regretfully away, and then another, until there 
were but eleven that remained. Mr. Holmes him- 
self would make a twelfth. The boys were the 
strongest and most active in camp, all except one, 
who stood and looked on as if he had no interest 
in going. 

“Marshall,” asked Mr. Holmes, “are you not 
going with us?” 

“ Ho, sir,” answered the boy. 

“We should be glad to have you come, my boy,” 
said the master, kindly. 

“ I have something else to do, sir,” he replied. 

In the morning at eleven the party started, and 
were accompanied for a mile by the smaller boys. 
These turning back at last, the adventurers were 
left to themselves. They walked with steady step, 
as Mr. Holmes gave them the example ; they were 
fresh and elastic, active and merry; they laughed 
and told jokes among themselves. Chester was 
cheerful from the example of the others, who 
showed no unwillingness to have him among 
them. The weight of his pack seemed nothing at 
all. Rawson trudged sturdily at his side, and was 
full of merriment. The day was bright and clear, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


63 


and not hot ; it seemed as if everything were to be 
successful. 

They reached at two o’clock the entrance to the 
mountain trail. It was barely an opening in the 
bushes. At the side of the road there gushed a 
little spring whose water was led to a drinking- 
trough farther down the road. “Here we will 
stop, boys,” said Mr. Holmes, “ and eat our 
lunch.” 

They stopped and ate with relish. Their appe- 
tite was the greater that the fare was simple and 
they were the hungrier for their walk. Bread 
and cheese, sandwiches of butter or meat, disap- 
peared rapidly. Like the rest, Chester disposed of 
his food with eager appetite. But he was fairly 
stuck at the end, when he came to a very crusty 
piece of bread, off which his teeth slipped. And 
yet that piece of bread, which ordinarily no one 
would offer and no one accept, seemed to him 
just then a proper finish to his lunch. The others 
were getting ready to move ; his knife he had left 
at camp, and he did not know what to do. 

Jim Pierce observed his dilemma. “ Here, 
Chester,” he said, “ use this ” ; and he handed the 
boy his large clasp-knife, a valuable one of English 
make. “Bring it along when you come,” added 


64 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Jim, and he prepared to start up the trail. He 
left Chester pleased at the kindness. 

One by one the boys disappeared in the bushes, 
until Chester was left alone, eating. He finished 
his last mouthful of bread, shut the knife, and 
stooped for a drink at the spring, laying down the 
knife as he did so. Then he rose and put on his 
pack, and paused for a moment, looking down at 
the spot where he had been sitting. Was there 
not something that he should carry in his hand? 
No, he saw nothing, and so turned to the bushes 
and entered upon the trail. The knife lay unno- 
ticed by the spring. 

He soon caught up with the others, and followed 
along at the rear of the line. For half an hour 
the company wound in single file among trees fit 
to make masts for the finest ships. In admiration 
Chester gazed at their straight boles and lofty 
tops. The ascent was gradual; they were but 
reaching the mountain proper. At length Mr. 
Holmes called a halt. 

“ Five minutes to take breath,” he said. “ Now 
the climb begins. For two hours, boys, we shall 
have hard scrabbling.” With what they had done 
and what they had yet to do, they were willing to 
rest, and sat mostly silent, taking breath. Then 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


65 


they rose to continue their journey, and once more 
put over their heads their rolled blankets. Amid 
the stir, Jim Pierce approached Chester and asked 
him for his knife. 

“ Oh, Jim,” cried the boy, in agony, as he sud- 
denly realized what he had done, “ I left it at the 
spring ! ” 

They stood for a moment without speaking. 
Any other boy but Jim might have covered Ches- 
ter with reproaches, but Jim was accustomed 
never to speak without thinking. His silence was 
to Chester more dreadful than blame; he looked 
into the face of the big boy, not knowing what to 
expect. 

“Well,” said Jim at last, “perhaps we ’ll find it 
in the morning.” 

“I ’ll go for it now,” said Chester. He laid his 
pack down. 

“ You can’t,” said Jim ; “ it ’s a mile behind, and 
you would only delay us so that we should lose 
the sunset. We must go on.” 

“ Oh, Jim,” cried Chester, “ I am so sorry ! ” 

Jim turned away. He felt keenly the loss of 
the knife, for he was sure that he should never 
see it again. He was sharply disappointed, yet he 
managed to say, as he took his place behind Mr. 


66 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Holmes and George Tenney at the head of the line, 
“ Never mind, but come along, Chester .” 

That Jim was so kind made Chester’s fault seem 
the greater. For the second time he saw the last 
boy disappear from his sight, as he stood thinking. 
He was overwhelmed at the result of his own care- 
lessness, for the thought in his mind was : “ Now 
Jim will never like me at all ! ” He thought of 
buying another knife, but his pocket-money would 
never buy a knife so fine. He thought of the 
knife lying at the edge of the spring for the first 
comer to take, and the thought was too much. 
He left his pack lying where it was, and saying to 
himself : “ They will not miss me ; I will catch them 
at the summit, and it does not matter if I am 
late,” he turned and ran down the path. 

In half an hour he was back, panting but tri- 
umphant, for the knife was in his pocket. Now 
he picked up his pack and slung it over his shoul- 
der, and hurried on the steps of the party. The 
sun seemed yet high; the bright rays streamed 
through the trees ; the sky was blue above. The 
path grew steep, but Chester climbed it in eager 
haste, and for nearly an hour toiled unresting. 
But what does a city boy know of the signs of the 
woods? At the end of that time he struck into 
the wrong path. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


67 


He did not know that the path branched, there 
at the foot of a great boulder. He followed 
around the stone to the right, while to the left the 
true path led, with the footprints of all his com- 
panions scarce showing on the dry, firm moss, and 
not noticed by his hurrying glance. He hastened 
along the new path with undiminished speed. 
Mr. Holmes, or one of the older boys, would not 
have followed it one hundred feet without turning 
back. The cobwebs that caught across his face, 
the path itself, untracked by feet since the last 
rain, would have spoken at once to the senses of 
an experienced woodsman. But Chester was none 
such. 

Yet when at last he hesitated and looked for 
footprints in the path, footprints were there! It 
seemed to him for a moment that those were not 
like the marks of boots, even though in gravel 
that would take no certain print, and that it was 
strange that a party of eleven should make so few. 
But the thought took no hold upon his mind. 
Ah, had he known upon whose trail he was hurry- 
ing so confidently ! 

The boys, he calculated, could not be far ahead 
of him now, he had come so fast. The thought 
encouraged him, and in spite of legs that began to 
feel the strain, he went unflagging. The path led 


68 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


ever upward, yet was not steep, going now along 
a gentle incline, now up a quick ascent, now along 
the hillside on the level. Still the footprints kept 
the path ahead of him, and a glance at the freshly 
disturbed gravel reassured him each time that the 
thought came to him : “ If I should lose the path ! ” 
As yet on his eager pursuit the loneliness of the 
wilderness had no alarm for him. And so, shift- 
ing his pack to relieve one tired shoulder, he still 
pushed on. But at last he paused, as a sudden 
shadow seemed to dim the day. He looked up. 
Bright blue was still the cloudless sky overhead, 
and the sun was lingering upon the trees; but 
it only reached their tops, and the shadows fell 
very obliquely. Chester saw with sudden dismay 
that the evening was close at hand. 

Silently passes the day in the woods, while each 
incident serves but to make its passage seem the 
longer. Silently comes the evening, but it hurries, 
and no hurry of our own will help us to forestall 
it. In ten minutes more Chester saw that the sun 
had left the tops of the trees. Still he hurried on. 

“The others will see the sunset,” he thought. 
“ They have not waited for me, and must be at the 
summit now.” So, pushing onward in the path, 
yet now beginning to slacken speed, he passed 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


69 


another hour of earnest climbing. By that time 
he saw that the snn had left the heavens. 11 1 
must be there soon,” he said. He looked ever up- 
ward through the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse 
of the mountain-top above him. At last the trees 
were thinner in one spot, to which the path led. 
He saw that there was a look- off, and hurried 
toward it. He found himself suddenly on a broad 
shelf of mossy rock, the brink of a precipice. 
Below him was a magnificent ravine, mysterious 
in the gathering dusk ; across it rose a mountain- 
peak in majesty. Chester looked at it in terror. 
He knew its aspect well. That was the peak which 
he had meant to climb. He was lost ! 

His low cry of dismay was answered by a sound 
from behind. Something was moving in the 
bushes. He drew back from them in alarm, and 
stood a few feet away, his back to the precipice. 
Instinctively he thought of his only weapon, the 
knife, and he drew it out and opened it as a stick 
cracked near him. Then the bushes moved to 
right and left in front of him, and a great black 
head and shoulders, with eyes of jet, and long 
snout, all in glossy black fur, pushed out from the 
green leaves. A bear ! Chester stepped back as 
far as he dared. The black nose wrinkled at him 


70 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


inquiringly; the little shiny eyes were fastened 
upon his ; the bear did not know what he was. It 
came wholly out from the bushes and pushed up 
to him, an enormous creature, smelling of pine- 
needles and the soft mold of the woods. Its 
shoulders were as high as Chester’s own, and it 
thrust its muzzle, snuffing, into Chester’s face. 

Better bear than precipice ! Behind the boy 
was a fall of two hundred feet, and certain death. 
He stood straight for a moment, not daring to 
move ; but then he thought of his father, and that 
a boy should be brave. In anger at the head so 
close to his own, he raised the knife and struck. 
There was a sudden snort and smothered yelp ; the 
bear turned with a rush and plunged into the 
bushes; there was a single crash of breaking 
branches, and all was silence. 

How was Chester to know— he knew so little of 
the woods— that a frightened bear goes as invisible 
as the breeze, and as silent? To him it seemed 
that the bear had stopped just beyond the screen 
of bushes. In a moment it would come back ; and 
then — ! He stood gripping the knife, conscious of 
the great valley at his back, straining his eyes at 
the bushes in front of him. Three, five minutes 
passed in quiet. 



‘•HE RAISED THE KNIFE AND STRUCK.” 



THE JUNIOR CUP 


73 


Then a cry which echoed through the woods, so 
that a faint reply came from the mountain-side 
beyond, came to Chester’s ear. But it was distant, 
and his thoughts were on the present and the 
very near. It came closer, and still he did not 
notice it. Then silence, and suddenly, from close 
at hand, he heard : “ Chester ! Oh, Chester ! ” 

“ Here ! ” answered he, in sudden joy, with all 
his strength. 

“ Where ? ” 

“ Here ! ” he answered. “ But keep away. The 
bear ! ” 

There was a rushing of feet, and Mr. Holmes, 
followed by others, burst through the bushes on 
him. But catching the boy’s last words, and see- 
ing him standing with the knife in his hand, the 
master quickly took from his pocket a revolver, 
and approached the bushes at the spot where 
Chester pointed. He showed no fear, but said, 
“ There will be no bear here, my boy.” 

“Give me the knife, Chester,” said Jim, and 
took it, and with George Tenney, who had the ax, 
following the master they entered the bushes. 
But there was no bear, nor a sign nor a trace, and 
the three, whom Chester had followed, though 
trembling, came back to the rock at the edge of 


5 


74 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


the precipice. Willing to keep together, with 
occasional glances over their shoulders, the re- 
maining boys gathered around them in a close 
group. 

“ Are you sure that there was a bear ? ” asked Mr. 
Holmes, putting his revolver away. “Did you 
see him, Chester ?” 

“ I saw him,” answered Chester, “ and I felt his 
wet nose. He breathed in my face. Look at the 
point of the knife.” 

Jim displayed the blade, and on the point was 
blood. 

“I could not get away,” said Chester, in expla- 
nation, and he pointed to the gulf. But suddenly, 
as the memory of his lonely climb and his danger 
rushed over him, he turned to Mr. Holmes with 
tears in his eyes, and cried, “I am glad you have 
come ! ” 

“ I am glad, too,” said the master, kindly, “ and 
that you are not hurt. But my dear boy,” and he 
put his hands on Chester’s shoulders and looked 
him in the face, “why did you lead us such a 
chase ? ” 

Chester dropped his head, for his fault was plain 
to him. He had spoiled the climb for all the boys ; 
he had spoiled the trip, by his carelessness first, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


75 


then by his wilfulness. He did not know what to 
say, and looked at the ground. 

“You know, Chester,” said Mr. Holmes’s grave 
voice, “ that you ought to have obeyed Jim, espe- 
cially as it was his knife and he was willing to 
lose it. What will you say to all the boys who 
have lost their climb ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Chester, stupidly. It was 
true : he ought to have obeyed Jim. 

“We discovered that you were not with us, and 
Jim said that you must have gone back. We 
waited for nearly an hour, and then I thought that 
you must have taken this path, which leads only 
here, to this view. So we had to follow you. 
What will you say, Chester?” asked Mr. Holmes. 

Tears stood in Chester’s eyes. Would he always 
bungle, even when he meant well ? “I am very 
sorry,” he said. 

“Well,” said Mr. Holmes, kindly, “nothing can 
be done now. It is already evening. Come, 
boys,” he said, as he turned away, “ let us clear off 
this place and make it fit for our camp. We can 
.sleep on the moss, and cut wood for a fire.” 

The boys began at once, and Chester, inspired 
with the one idea of being helpful and submissive, 
worked harder than the rest. Rubbish was 


76 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


cleaned from the broad rock; wood was cut and 
carried; blankets were unrolled and spread out, 
ready for sleep ; food was laid out for supper. As 
the dusk increased, the crackle of dry twigs was 
heard, and then, as if to greet their fire, the moon 
rose over a ridge, and lighted up their camping- 
place, the mountain-side beyond, and the valley 
below. Mr. Holmes at last called all to supper. 

The evening was not cold, but the fire was 
cheerful. The boys gathered around it, and it com- 
forted Chester, who placed himself on the outside 
of the ring, that the Rat came and sat close beside 
him. They ate for a while in silence, being tired ; 
but then the food quickened their spirits, and they 
began to talk. Some one asked Chester about the 
bear, and the boy, glad though he would have 
been to remain unnoticed, was required to tell the 
whole story. 

Mr. Holmes was willing to turn the boys’ minds 
from the subject of bears. “How bright the 
moonlight is!” said he, when Chester finished. 
“ See, boys, how clear everything is across the 
ravine.” 

They turned and looked. It was a wonderful 
scene. Except below, where the bottom of the 
gorge was still in shadow, the whole place was 








THE JUNIOR CUP 


79 


lighted up by the moon. It was a thousand feet 
across the ravine, yet each pine-top, symmetrical 
and sharp, was clear in the moonlight. There 
were thousands, millions of them, planted thickly, 
growing out of the deep darkness hundreds of feet 
below, climbing up, up, along the sides of the 
mountain, clothing it thickly, forming a forest so 
great that one hesitated to guess the number of 
trees. Thousands of acres of fine forest-land were 
visible on the broad side of the old mountain, yet 
in the bright light every tree was discernible, its 
fine, sharp point clear against the shadow it cast. 

Out of the great forest where not a human soul 
wandered, where, except for pleasure-seekers like 
themselves, not a human being would come in 
months, rose the blunt mountain-peak. Far 
above the boys the trees grew smaller, then 
scrubby, and above the scrub showed the bare 
stone ridges of the rain-washed summit. The 
moonlight silvered the top, and cast its heavy 
shadows into crevices. How fine if they were 
there ! and one boy sighed at the thought. And 
below the summit a considerable distance, yet not 
among the trees, a tiny building showed itself, 
with its shadow on the rocks behind it. “ See,” 
said George Tenney ; “ there is the shelter.” And 


80 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


all, for a moment, strained their eyes to see the 
little house. 

Suddenly, as they looked, came an exclamation 
from Mr. Holmes, so startling that they turned to 
him in amazement. He had risen to his feet and 
was pointing. “ See, see ! ” he cried. “ The 
shelter ! ” 

They looked again, half frightened at the mean- 
ing in his voice. Above them the shelter still 
stood in the calm moonlight. What could be the 
matter ? 

“ Boys,” cried Mr. Holmes, in the same alarming 
tones, “ the shelter is moving ! ” 


CHAPTER V 


HE boys all started to their feet at 
the cry, and, motionless, strained 
their eyes across the moonlit val- 
ley. The shelter moving f It 
seemed secure as the mountain 
whereon it rested. Some of the boys looked to 
Mr. Holmes for an explanation of his assertion. 
But still he gazed, pointing, and as they turned to 
look again, a sound like the first faint breath of a 
storm was wafted to them across the ravine. 
Still there the little house remained, visible clearly 
on the distant ridge. Yet— what? was it indeed 
so ? The bare summit still glistened in the moon- 
light, secure in its altitude as the bottom of the 
sea; but the mountain-side that seemed so firm, 
the shelter, the scrub about it, the taller trees 
below, yes, thousands of them— were they not 
moving ! 

Now came the sound louder and clearer, like 
the smothered grinding of rock upon rock; and 
81 



82 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


a swaying began in the moving trees, as if they 
knew their doom, and leaning each to each, whis- 
pered, “ Sisters, good-by ! ” The sound of the 
trees came to the listening ears. And more and 
more apparent, though they could not see where it 
began nor where it ended, the movement, a slip- 
ping downward, was visible to those watching 
across the valley. Some trees were still; others 
close to them were moving, and a great patch of 
the mountain-side had begun its descent. The 
shelter moved down after the trees, and a large 
piece of bare ground close to the summit itself, 
with its great stones still in their relative posi- 
tions, was following the shelter. The line of sepa- 
ration, a strip showing the fresh, moist gravel, 
shining in the moonlight, at last began to spread 
across the head of the moving section, and to run 
down both sides, forming a semicircle. Then sud- 
denly it began to broaden with great rapidity, and 
the sound of the whispering trees, the grinding 
rocks, rose on the instant to a roar. 

Slowly the landslide had begun, but quickly it 
ended. With the rush and the roar of a thousand 
cataracts it swept down into the valley. Hun- 
dreds of acres, loosed from their foundations, 
trees, dirt, and stones in fearful career, plowed 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


83 


their way through the opposing forest. Nothing 
could withstand the impetus. The trees were 
planed like splinters from a board, while, crashing, 
the mass passed over the spot where they had 
stood. Trees were hurled like sticks, boulders 
smote upon each other and broke, and giant pines 
and spruce, caught in the mill of stones, were 
crushed to pulp and ground into the dirt. A din 
arose in the ravine commensurate with the de- 
struction, and the roar of the landslide, rising 
from the narrow place, told to the other moun- 
tains, miles away, the loss and the pain of one. 
Quickly it was over. While the boys stood rooted, 
half stunned by the dreadful sight and the fearful 
noise, the whole vast mass of destruction lodged 
in the bottom of the valley. Boulders and heavy 
trees still for a minute came crashing down the 
slide ; the sound for a minute still roared in the 
narrow place, as if from its heart the mountain 
was crying for its hurt. But then the uproar 
ceased. 

Then they could hear the clamor of thousands 
of birds, which, roused from their resting-places, 
flew out into the night. Some, indeed, had saved 
themselves from the trees which were destroyed. 
The little birds settled themselves soon. The 


84 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


larger, hawks and crows and one great eagle, flew 
high and disappeared over the ridges that shut in 
the valley, and they screamed, discordant, as they 
went. Owls remained, great birds that circled 
about as if to examine into the cause of the 
disturbance. 

A great scar remained above on the mountain- 
side. Rocks and ledges lay bare to the pitying 
glance of the kindly moon. For fifty years only 
bushes would grow there, and the jealous rains 
would fight with the rocks to sweep away each bit 
of earth that might nourish a seed or give life 
to a plant. In a century trees would come and 
cover over the raw wound on the grand old peak ; 
but long the bones of the mountain would 
show through the gash, washed by each rain, 
beaten by the hot sun, covered over mercifully 
only by the snow in winter. And down below lay 
the trees that had been, tumbled and broken. The 
mountain had been proud of them ; men had come 
among them to admire and wonder at them : and 
now, instead of honorably yielding to the ax for 
an honorable use, or of living to the end of a tree’s 
majestic life, cut off in their pride, shattered, 
twisted, they lay buried amid rocks and stones. 

The boys stood in silence while the sounds died 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


85 


away, while the clamor of the birds was stilled, 
while the last voices of animals in the mysterious 
forest ceased to cry. Only they and the circling 
owls looked down on the valley of destruction, on 
that death of millions of trees, on that annihilation 
of the work, through centuries, of the friendliest 
forces of nature. 

Mr. Holmes was the first to move. He turned 
and sought Chester, and drew him to his side. 
“ My dear boy,” he said, and all heard him, “ who 
was I to reproach you, when the hand of Provi- 
dence was in your action ? But for you we should 
all lie there below, under a thousand tons of rock ! ” 

The boys shook themselves free from the spell 
of the dreadful sight. “It is true,” they cried, 
crowding around. “But for Chester we should 
have been in the shelter, and should have been 
killed!” 

Some came to Chester, and laughing nervously, 
insisted on shaking his hand and thanking him 
for saving their lives. Others looked down again 
at the bottom of the ravine, where the moon, as it 
rose higher, showed the great heap of ruin. Mr. 
Holmes called them all to him at last. “It is 
late,” he said, “ and we must start with the earliest 
light. They have been watching from the camp 


86 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


for the light of our fire, and perhaps they have 
seen and heard the landslide. In the morning Mr. 
Dean, with his spy-glass, will be able even to see 
that the shelter has been destroyed. We must 
hurry back to let him know that we are safe. So 
to bed now, boys, and rest for to-morrow’s walk ! ” 

Chester’s sleep was broken : he dreamed of bears 
and landslides, and fancied himself walking for 
hours alone along a mountain-side. He waked in 
the morning at the first light. Voices were whis- 
pering near him, and rising on his elbow, he saw 
George Tenney and Jim Pierce just taking leave 
of Mr. Holmes. “ They are going,” he said to him- 
self, “ to take the news to the camp that we are 
safe.” Sleep was over for him, and rising, he 
helped Mr. Holmes to light the fire. Familiar 
with the mountain, Mr. Holmes led the way to a 
spring, and in the pail which they had brought 
with them they made coffee for the rest of the 
boys, who, waking one by one, rose with yawns 
and stood about, sleepily watching, or looked at 
the landslide and wondered at it. All ate break- 
fast standing. 

In the morning light the destruction of the 
evening before was painfully visible. The terrible 
space above, bare to the living rock; the clean- 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


87 


swept path next beneath, where the mass had 
passed; the piled wreckage in the valley below, 
where roots of trees, and dirt, and giant boulders 
lay mixed with one another— all these were clear 
to the eye of day with shuddering certainty. The 
boys looked with wonder— no, more, with awe 
and gratitude— down upon that ruin, and thought 
how easily it might have happened to them to lie 
buried in that enormous sepulcher. They were 
kind, therefore, to Chester: gave him the best of 
the breakfast, spoke to him of his bear, and told, 
so that he should hear, how glad they were that 
he had missed the path. 

A few hours of walking put the boys again in 
camp, welcomed and wondered at by their relieved 
companions. For as they sat at the edge of the 
hill that overlooked the lake, and watched for the 
red light that was to be the signal, the boys in 
camp had seen, on the moonlit mountain, the dark 
forest swept away to show the bright gravel and 
the glistening rocks, and had heard the mighty 
noise of the slide. Comforting themselves as best 
they could with the idea that since the others had 
not signaled, perhaps they were not on that part 
of the mountain at all, they bad waited till the 
morning, when the advent of the two big boys 


88 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


removed all doubt from their minds. The boys 
were received with acclamation, none more than 
Chester, whose adventure with the bear, and whose 
providential mistake that rescued the whole party, 
called upon him special honor. 

But a new spirit had come over the boy, infused 
into him in some way by these last experiences. 
He put aside, as well as he could, any credit for 
either bear or rescue. For his mind was set, now, 
by the events of the summer. His first rebellion, 
when they wished to duck him, his great mistake 
in choosing Marshall for a companion, the suspi- 
cion that had been cast upon him and that seemed 
not yet to be removed, and finally Ihe kind yet 
resolute words of Mr. Holmes, blaming him for his 
actions— these neither the applause of the boys 
nor his own weaker nature could thrust out of 
his memory. His better part seized and held to 
them like bitter medicine that yet might do him 
good. He was resolved not to comfort himself 
with any undeserved credit, and he determined 
never again to make the mistakes that would cut 
him off: from his hope of an honorable position in 
the camp. And so his thinking mind, which Mr. 
Holmes had the wisdom to trust, was working its 
way from darkness to light. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


89 


The words of Mr. Holmes, the next morning, 
showed Chester how he could redeem himself in 
his own eyes, and turned what had been only a 
vague desire into a real and vigorous purpose. 

“ I wish to remind the boys,” said Mr. Holmes, 
as he rose in his place at the breakfast-table, “ that 
it is time to commence training for the prize cups. 
As most of you know, there is one water event for 
the Cup, the mile swim, which may be accomplished 
at any time before the day of the sports, provided 
that a proper timer goes in the boat. I am pleased 
to announce,” he observed parenthetically, “that 
Marshall Moore made the mile swim yesterday, 
with Mr. Dean as timekeeper, in forty-five minutes 
and twenty seconds, which is one of the best records 
ever made by one of the Junior Class. And there 
are six land events,” Mr. Holmes resumed, amid the 
meaning glances of some of the boys, “the two 
dashes, the two jumps, the hurdle race, and put- 
ting the shot. We shall begin to-day to put the 
track in order, and I advise you all to begin train- 
ing to-morrow.” 

Chester heard without dismay the news of the 
performance of his rival. But he heard with dis- 
appointment the announcement that, on account 
of many things which would keep him busy, Mr. 


90 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Holmes would not be able to train the boys him- 
self. George Tenney and Jim Pierce, Mr. Holmes 
said, would be glad to assist any boy that came to 
them for help ; but Chester could not think of ask- 
ing them to help him. It seemed to him, therefore, 
at that very moment, that the Cup was lost to him ; 
but with a tenacity of purpose which he inherited 
from his father, he said to himself : “ I will yet try ! ” 
And, to begin with, he resolved to help at the work 
of putting the track in order. 

Much comfort did he take that morning in the 
society of the Eat, who joined him in the work, 
and for two hours helped him push the roller around 
and around the oval track. Then George and Jim, 
who had been marking and measuring, supervising 
and directing, ordered the two boys to the lake for 
their swim, and gave the roller into the hands of 
two others. 

Chester was pleased at even so much notice from 
the big boys, and Eawson was proud. “ Did you 
see,” he asked, “ that they saw we were doing good 
work ! They are not so much down on you as you 
imagine. They ’ll tell you how to train if only you 
ask them.” 

“ Not yet, at least,” answered Chester. 

“ Oh, Chester, you must beat Marshall ! ” cried the 
little fellow, eagerly. 



CHESTER AND RAWSON AT WORK ON THE RUNNING TRACK. 



THE JUNIOR CUP 


93 


“ I ’ll try,” replied Chester. 

He worked steadily at his swimming, his run- 
ning, and his jumping, for a week. At the end of 
that time he accomplished the Island swim, with 
Mr. Holmes— who came to the lake whenever he 
could— in the "boat that accompanied him. As he 
gained staying power in the water, so also he gained 
it on the land, and found that each day he could 
run a farther distance on the track, or a shorter 
distance at greater speed than before. In the im- 
promptu contests that were got up day after day, 
he measured himself with one after another of the 
J uniors, and found that his perseverance was win- 
ning, and that he was sure in the end of beating 
them all— all except Marshall, whose splendid 
build and excellent development, and whose ad- 
vantage in age, seemed almost to put him beyond 
competition. Though he and Chester never ran 
together, but always avoided each other, he beat 
with seeming ease the boys that Chester could beat 
with difficulty. Especially in those events where 
skill counted more than strength, in the hurdles 
and in the jumps, he seemed unapproachable. As 
day followed day, and Chester watched the boy 
whom he felt to be his only rival, he repeated to 
himself more and more often that Marshall would 
win the Cup. 


94 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Not Chester alone, but another boy also, was 
troubled with the same thought. The little Eat, 
whose sturdy frame fitted him for all feats of en- 
durance, yet not for agility nor speed, watched 
with a critical eye Chester’s efforts at self-instruc- 
tion. “He does n’t do it right,” he muttered to 
himself, as he watched his friend, with lumbering 
gait, leaping the hurdles. And again, “ He does n’t 
do it right,” he would say to himself, as he watched 
Chester trying to hurl himself over the bar. His 
own acquaintance with athletics, on account of his 
school life, was intimate, and he distinguished at a 
glance Chester’s clumsy efforts from the easy per- 
formance of Marshall. Cool-headed and shrewd, 
he comforted himself with no vain hopes, but said 
to himself with increasing assurance, “Marshall 
will win the Cup.” 

Yet there was no question that Chester would be 
second in the struggle, and perhaps would make a 
close second after all, if he could only be taught. 
Eawson himself could not instruct in what he could 
not do ; he had not yet trained his eye to distin- 
guish minor faults, for he was only a little boy, 
and could not say to Chester, “In this you are 
wrong ; do it this other way.” Instead, he realized 
with disquiet that his friend, for all his endeavors, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


95 


was only confirming himself in certain faults that 
would insure his defeat. 

Only one thing could save him, and Eawson de- 
cided to make an effort for it. u See here, Chester,” 
he said, one day, “ come out rowing with me.” 

Chester looked at his little friend affectionately. 
“ But this is no day for a row,” he objected ; “ it is 
too windy.” 

“ Oh, yes, it ’s good enough,” said Eawson. “ It ’s 
only flawy ; there are no high waves.” 

So since they had both swum to the Island, and 
could use a boat without asking permission, they 
took one at the boat-house, and rowed out into 
the middle of the lake. There Eawson rested on 
his oars, and looked at Chester. 

“ I want to talk to you,” he said. 

“ I know you do,” said Chester. “ That ’s what 
you brought me out here for. So go ahead.” 

“Well,” said the Eat, and then he paused for 
words. At last he blurted out, “ Chester, how are 
you going to win the Junior Cup ! ” 

“ I don’t know ! ” said Chester, and immediately 
became gloomy. He sat for some time without 
further words ; but then at last he said : “ I know 
very well that my chance is mighty small, when I 
look at Marshall going over the hurdles or clearing 


96 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


the bar, and then compare myself with him. I 
think I could push him hard in the hundred yards 
or the quarter-mile, but in those other things, in 
the hurdles and the jumps, I am just absolutely 
useless, and I have no chance. It ’s awfully 
good of you, Rawson,” and he reached out and 
touched the other’s knee, “to bother about me. 
But it ’s no use; and though I’m not going to 
give up trying, I know it ’s no use. I ’ll just get 
beaten and laughed at, and I suppose it ’ll do me 
good.” 

“No one is going to laugh at you,” said Rawson. 
“ But Chester,” he added, with hesitation, “ there 
is one way that perhaps will help.” 

“ What is that ? ” 

“ You can ask the big boys to train you.” 

There was silence in the boat, while Rawson, as 
the wind drifted them nearer the shore, took the 
oars again and pulled for a while. Then he added, 
“ There they are now— over there.” 

Chester looked, and saw the one sailboat of the 
camp, a large yacht tender in which a sail could 
be stepped, sailing near the distant shore. 

“Well,” he said, after a while, “I know that 
way. But I have given those fellows enough 
trouble this summer. And they have never really 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


97 


forgiven me because I went with Marshall, even 
though I do not go with him any more.” 

“ I know,” said Rawson, who yet did not know 
of the suspicion that still rested upon Chester; 
“ and that ’s funny to me, for it is not like them. 
They are nicer fellows than you think, Chester.” 

“I know they ’re nice,” said Chester, “and I 
know that I was very foolish when I first came to 
camp. I know lots of things now that I did n’t a 
month ago. And I know this,” he added gloomily : 
“ that when once you ’ve made mistakes, it takes 
a mighty long time to make up for them, so that 
you often get tired trying.” 

“ Don’t get tired of it, Chester,” begged Rawson, 
earnestly. 

“Well, I ’m not yet,” said Chester. And again 
there was silence in the boat, except for the slap- 
ping of the waves, as each boy sat busy with his 
own thoughts. At last Rawson spoke again. 

“Now, Chester,” he asked, “won’t you really 
ask the big boys to help you? I wish you would.” 

Chester did not answer at once, but sat studying 
the boards in the bottom. 

“ See,” said Rawson, suddenly ; “ here they are.” 

Chester looked up, as the larger boat, with its 
big white sail, came cutting the water near them. 


98 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Jim and George sat in her, well to windward, 
hatless, flushed, and happy. “ Hullo, Rawson! 
Hullo, Chester ! ” they hailed. “ Hullo ! ” “ Hullo ! ” 
answered the two hoys. They passed within forty 
feet and rushed by. 

“ See,” said Rawson, his eyes still following the 
boat, “how friendly they are. Won’t you ask 
them, Chester?” 

But while Chester still hesitated, the voice of 
the other changed to a cry of horror. “ Oh ! ” he 
cried. “ The mast ! ” 

And as Chester tried to turn in his seat he 
heard, borne freshly on the wind, the sound of 
rending wood. 


CHAPTER VI 


URNING- quickly, Chester saw that 
at a little distance, fortunately still 
very close, the mast and sail were 
collapsing upon the two boys in the 
other boat. The mast fell with 
force, but the sail, inflated, fell more slowly. The 
boat was on the point of capsizing. It was enough 
to see ; he turned to Rawson, and cried : “ Row ! ” 
But the Rat was already hard at work, trying to 
turn the boat around. Chester helped him, push- 
ing as the other pulled, and the boat immediately 
gathered headway, and being light, fairly flew. 
The thought came to Chester that both George 
and Jim were good swimmers, but then he cried 
to himself: “If either has been struck by the 
mast or caught in the ropes ! ” And that was 
exactly what had happened. 

For when they were at the side of the upturned 
boat, Jim Pierce only was in sight, and he, with 
blood flowing down his forehead, half stunned, 

99 



L.of C- 


100 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


was feebly bolding on to the boat. The boat itself 
was upside down, the sail floated wide, and there 
was no sign of George. 

“ He is underneath the boat,” cried Kawson, in 
terror. 

“ I will go after him,” cried Chester ; “ yon ’tend 
to Jim.” And he prepared to dive. But one 
thought came to him before he went over the side 
—that perhaps only by cutting could he set George 
free ; for that he was entangled Chester saw was 
very likely. So with haste he patched his jack- 
knife from his pocket, opened it, and with it 
in his hand leaped from the boat, his heels high 
behind him. 

It was a clumsy dive in his haste; he felt the 
water force his arms aside and strike his face so 
that it smarted. But it was good enough; im- 
mediately he was under the boat, and his hands, 
as he groped about, touched George’s foot. At 
once he began to feel upward along the legs and 
body for the ropes entangling him. He found a 
perfect net of lines across the big boy’s body. In 
the dull light he could see little, for the dome of 
the boat cut off all direct light, and the other boat 
and the extended sail combined to cut off reflec- 
tion. So he worked in the dark, and hacked des- 








THE JUNIOR CUP 


103 


perately at the ropes, with knife that was all too 
dull. But one gave way, and then another, and 
then a third, and as his head and lungs began to 
feel like bursting, he felt that George had moved 
his arm as if it were at last freed. But yet 
George did not move from his position among 
the thwarts; it was evident that he was still 
caught. 

With despairing strength Chester reached up- 
ward, found one more rope, and cut it through. 
It parted, and he felt with joy that the big boy was 
beginning to struggle. As he himself pushed 
downward to clear the gunwale, he saw the outline 
of George’s whole body against the green water. 
In another moment both were at the surface, gasp- 
ing in the fresh air, and above them was the other 
boat, with Bawson in it, reaching over to catch 
Chester by the collar. 

“ Oh, I ’m all right,” gurgled Chester, avoiding ; 
“help George.” 

“ I ’m all right,” answered George, as he breathed 
deeply; “where ’s Jim?” 

“ Here, in the bottom of my boat,” said Bawson. 

“ I ’ll get in over the bow,” said George, as he 
seized the boat. “You take the stern, Chester.” 
Together they clambered into the boat. There 


104 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


lay Jim, his head upon one of the seats, bloody, 
dripping, and exhausted, but conscious. He 
looked at the two as they climbed in, turning his 
eyes from one to the other. 

“I ’m all right,” he said; “and you ’re not 
drowned ? ” 

Then Chester, still panting violently, saw that 
George was scarcely more out of breath than 
himself. 

“Why, George,” he said, “how could you last 
so well?” 

“There was air under the boat,” said George, 
breathing hard, “ about two pailfuls, I guess, that 
got caught under there when we tipped over. 
When I found I was caught, there I had to stay, 
crowding my nose up against the bottom 0 And 
you did n’t come too soon, Chester,” he added 
soberly. “I should have suffocated in another 
minute. And at the same time Eawson, it seems, 
was helping Jim into the boat.” 

“Yes,” said Jim, sitting up at last; “and I 
was n’t very well able to help myself, either.” 
They sat for a few moments in silence. 

“Well,” said George, finally, “we ’ll thank you 
fellows in due time ; but now let ’s get ashore.” 

So, picking up all scattered things, and towing 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


105 


sail and mast and capsized boat, they rowed to 
shore, and at the boat-house emptied out the boat 
and put everything in its place. It was nearly 
dinner-time when they were finished, and so Ches- 
ter remarked, starting to lead the way up to the 
camp. 

“ But wait,” said George, detaining him. “ Don’t 
you think I have something to say to you after all 
this?” 

“ It was nothing,” said Chester, flushing. 

“ Nothing?” asked George, while the other two 
looked on. “Well, perhaps not. But Chester, I 
want to clear up everything that has been between 
us and you, so that we may start fresh. Now let 
me ask you a question.” 

“Well,” said Chester, with a sense of disquiet, 
“ ask.” 

George went straight at his point : 

“That time when Jim found Marshall eating 
Archie’s marshmallows, and you did not know 
that he stole them,— do you remember?— that was 
not the only time that Marshall had taken candy 
from the little boys. Now I know that you ate 
some of the other candy he took ; did you know 
he stole it ? ” 

“No!” cried Rawson, starting forward. But 


106 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Jim held him, saying, “ Let Chester answer.” And 
so all three stood with their eyes on Chester’s face. 

The color rose slowly in his cheeks. “ If I had 
supposed you fellows thought that of me—” he 
said, and paused. He spoke with much difficulty. 

George took his hand. “ That ’s enough, Ches- 
ter. I am sorry that I thought it of you,” he said. 
“ Excuse me, and let ’s be friends.” 

“ I will,” said Chester, and he squeezed the big 
boy’s hand. And Jim came forward to lay his 
hand on Chester’s shoulder. “I am sorry, too,” 
he said, and added in a moment, looking first at 
George : “ But now that it is all right, perhaps we 
can show Marshall, before the end of the summer, 
a thing or two that he will not like.” 

Chester smiled faintly as he thought of the 
Junior Cup, but he looked with frankness on his 
two new friends. “ I am not troubled about Mar- 
shall any more,” he said, “ and he can do all he 
wishes, for all I care. I was n’t nice at first, this 
summer,” he added, with difficulty; “but ever 
since then I ’ve wanted more to please you than 
to do anything else, and if I ’ve done it I ’m 
satisfied.” 

And more rose to his lips from his deeply moved 
heart, but he repressed the words ; for a boy, like 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


107 


a man, fears to say all lie feels. And boys, like 
men, are often ashamed to hear open praise; so, 
though Jim smiled, George turned to Rawson and 
pulled him forward. 

“ Come here, little Rat,” he said gaily, to hide 
his embarrassment. “ You are a good little Rat- 
do you know it ?— for standing by Chester through 
thick and thin. There are four of us now; do 
you hear, Rat 1 ” 

“I hear,” said the Rat, laughing. “And I ’m 
glad. And I feel something by which I know it ’s 
dinner-time.” 

So they went ; but as the big boys took the lead 
up the path, both wet, and as Chester followed, 
wet also, Rawson, the only dry one in the party, 
caught him by the hand and whispered: “It ’s 
all right now, Chester, is n’t it?” And Chester 
nodded at him, smiling. 

Now, for a second time, Chester found himself 
something of a hero in camp, and this time with 
no doubtful cause for credit. But he had little 
time in which to think of it, for George and Jim 
took him in hand with an energy and vigor that 
astonished him; and with a strictness, too: for 
they claimed absolute control over all his move- 
ments — prescribed in the morning the length of his 


108 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


swim, superintended his meals, forbade all sweets, 
and sent him to bed at night before themselves. 
Day by day he practised at the lake, and at the 
track they kept him hard at work, running, jump- 
ing, putting the shot; doing one day one thing, 
one another; giving him one day nothing but 
hard and heavy work, ordering the next nothing 
but things that called for quickness ; directing him 
to put on his sweater and be quiet sometimes 
when he felt in best condition and ready for 
more ; keeping him at other times at work till he 
was ready to drop. 

Hardest on his spirit were the constant correc- 
tions. Humble as he had become, eager as he 
was to learn, there yet remained in him some of 
the old spirit, hot and quick, which he could not 
get rid of, and which, perhaps, it was not best en- 
tirely to be rid of, for the steel of the best temper 
takes the best edge. The words, “Not this way; 
do it so,” grew wearisome to his ear; always he 
was being told, “ That is not quite right ; you must 
take more pains.” Again and again he was put at 
the same thing, again and again he was admon- 
ished for his slowness in learning, until at last he 
wanted to burst out and cry, “Let me alone!” 
But the thought of the kindness of his new friends 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


109 


in troubling themselves at all with him restrained 
him, and the thought of the possible reward of his 
work urged him constantly to new patience and 
fresh endeavors. 

And if there had been anything needed to spur 
him on, it was always present in the sight of Mar- 
shall working by himself, clever and persistent, 
beautifully built, like an antique bronze. The 
sight of him flitting over the hurdles always 
roused in Chester both despair and hope. And if 
there had been any weakness in himself for his 
former friend, it was slowly but surely driven from 
his heart by the sayings, always biting and sting- 
ing, that came to him from Marshall’s sharp tongue. 

Now it was : “ Chester has hired George and Jim 
with marshmallows, and is going to give them 
photographs of the Cup when he wins it”; and 
now it was : “ Chester is a great mountain-climber 
and a fine swimmer— but he has n’t climbed one 
mountain yet, nor crossed the lake.” Now it was 
a slur upon his batting, now it was a joke upon 
his diving. Always the boy’s tongue learned to 
find the boy’s heart ; till at last Chester was eager 
to win the Cup, not for the Cup alone, but also to 
beat Marshall. 

And George’s cheerful words made him think 


110 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


better of bis chances of success. “ There are 
seven events,” said he, “out of which, to get the 
Cup, you must win four. Three are surely his, for 
you can never touch him in the hurdles or the 
jumps. But I am not so sure that the other four 
are not yours ; at any rate, we are training you just 
for them. In the hundred and the shot we are 
sure of you; and the swim and the quarter-mile, 
if we can only get enough staying power into you, 
are yours also. Chester, there is hope.” 

At last came for Chester the real beginning of 
the struggle. One morning, when but a week of 
camp was left, as the boys all left the breakfast- 
table, George sought Chester in the crowd, and 
bade him be at the boat-house at ten promptly. 
“ Bring Rawson, if you want to,” he said, “ but be 
on time ” And so at ten, with Rawson at his 
heels, he went down the path through the grove 
to the boat-house, and found the two big boys 
awaiting him. At sight of them, Chester knew at 
once what he was to do, for George held a bottle 
of oil in his hand, and Jim was looking at an 
object which Chester recognized at once as Mr. 
Holmes’s stop-watch. His heart beat faster as he 
realized that the time had come for him to swim 
Terror. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


111 


“ Strip, my boy,” said George, “ and let ’s get at 
it quickly. The wind is rising, and so will be the 
waves. You have a poorer day than Marshall, 
who had a wind behind him, while yours is across : 
but we can’t wait longer ; it is too near the sports.” 

Chester stripped and rubbed his joints with the 
oil, not to help him through the water, but to keep 
him warm. Then, while the others got into a 
boat, he took his stand at the edge of the boat- 
house platform, and stood waiting. 

“Now, remember,” said George, as the final 
word ; “ don’t think of anything but just one thing, 
and that is your stroke. Get along quickly, but 
without hurry, for as soon as you get nervous, 
you will get tired, and will give out. Take a 
steady pace and hold it. Now, Chester, when Jim 
says ‘ three.’ ” 

Jim, who was holding the watch, studied it for 
half a minute in silence. Then he said, “Ready? 
One, two, three ! ” And at the last word Chester 
dove into the water. “ Steady, now,” said George, 
as he rose and struck out. He took the side stroke, 
and began to swim toward the distant shore. A 
little behind him followed the boat, George row- 
ing, Rawson in the bow, Jim in the stern holding 
the watch. 


7 


112 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Now there began for Chester an experience 
which he never forgot. The swim which he had 
taken to the Island, but a short time before, had 
not tired him very much, and since then he had 
grown stronger and more skilful, so that he 
entered upon the task with confidence. The water 
was warm, the day clear and bright, the waves 
not too high. He swam low in the water, his head 
making way for him; he breathed through the 
mouth, as one must when swimming. Only his left 
shoulder and the left side of his head protruded 
from the water, as, giving himself up to the 
friendly element, he took his bearings by a distant 
hill, and swam with a strong and even stroke. 

He heard, occasionally, the sound of a voice be- 
hind him, as the boys in the boat talked in low 
tones. Once in a while he saw them, as a twist of 
his body turned his head farther about, or as the 
wind sent the boat to leeward. But most of the 
time it seemed as if he were alone in the world, 
down there in the lake ; he heard only the splash 
of the waves and the sweep of the wind, and it 
seemed that only the birds overhead, with the 
mountains and hills, were alive to watch him 
swimming. The waiter beneath him rocked him 
with a gentle movement ; sometimes a wave rolled 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


113 


right over his head. But always shaking the 
water from his eyes and ejecting it from his 
mouth, he swam steadily onward. The loneliness 
was not terrible ; he seemed with his friends, the 
wind, and the water, and the hills. All wished 
him well, and gaining at last what the athlete 
knows as the second wind, it seemed to Chester, 
enjoying the force of his body and the beauties of 
nature, as if he could swim there forever. 

His progress was fast. Minute after minute put 
behind him rod after rod of the tossing blue water. 
The dark spot on the lake which was his head, 
with the white cleaving shoulder that followed it, 
and the green glancing body seen through the 
water, left behind it at last its furlongs and its 
quarter-miles. To the boys in the boat keeping 
the time, and noting by the Island and the shore 
the distance covered, it was evident that he was 
making good time. And Chester, down there in 
the water, alone, as it seemed to him, swam with 
delight. 

He knew that he had passed the half-mile, for 
the Island was behind him. He could see, from 
his position on the surface, the hills, low in the 
distance, and the mountains standing above them. 
Tallest of all, the mountain which their party had 


114 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


attempted stood clear to view. On its summit 
was the sear of the landslide, of the color of ocher, 
like yellow clay gleaming in the sun. And as 
Chester watched it he saw again in his mind the 
dreadful landslide, and imagined himself standing 
above the mass of stones and trees heaped at the 
bottom of the gloomy gorge. But that was past. 
Then it was night ; now it was broad day, and the 
sun and the bright water and the smiling sky 
were around him. So he swam steadily. 

But as onward he went, his feet and hands doing 
their work rhythmically, it was evident that the 
wind was becoming stronger, the waves higher. 
The water tossed him less regularly, and the waves 
broke more frequently over his head. Water came 
into his throat, and he had to cough to get it out. 
Each time after he lifted his head and cleared his 
eyes and throat, he laid his ear again in the water 
and swam onward. But the increasing uncer- 
tainty of the waves, moving at last in an angry 
little chop, made swimming more difficult. He 
was not so sure of each stroke. Presently, by a 
nervous instinct, he tried to avoid the breaking 
waves. He lost speed, his stroke was less regular, 
and those in the boat said to themselves, “He is 
getting tired.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


115 


Still onward he swam, but the water, only now 
so friendly, seemed finally to dispute his passage, 
and the feeling arose in Chester’s mind that it was 
struggling with him. It cut off more often by its 
tossing waves his view of the distant hills, so that 
at last he could be sure of seeing only the tallest 
mountain of all, with its bright scar. And that 
scar seemed to speak to him of destruction and 
death— of the death which might once have come to 
him ; and in his struggle with the water death sud- 
denly seemed to be not so very far away. He did 
not know how close behind was the boat. How 
easy to sink exhausted in the water, which seemed 
to be growing colder ! He thought of the depths 
below him— of how cold and rayless they must be, 
where only the mussels grew, but where fishes 
would come to pick his bones. And so that boy, 
once so joyous in his swimming, now was strug- 
gling to put from him the fear of death. 

Those in the boat could not read his thoughts, 
but they knew that he was flagging. And so into 
Chester’s vision came suddenly the boat, which 
George was rowing faster. As it was abreast of 
him, George leaned over and spoke cheerily: 
“ Take a brace, Chester ; you are trying too much 
to lift yourself. Give yourself to the water ; swim 


116 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


low, and keep it np steadily. You are almost there, 
and ahead of time.” 

But instead of being cheered by the words and 
the news, Chester raised his head and said: “I 
don’t believe I can finish, George.” 

“ Nonsense, Chester ! ” said George, with energy ; 
“ you must finish.” 

And so Chester laid his head again in the water, 
and struggled on. “ Take the breast stroke,” said 
George. Turning obediently, he swam for a while 
with the other stroke. His fear of drowning was 
now gone, with the sight of the boat and the voice 
of his friend, but weariness remained. To his tired 
shoulders it appeared after a minute that the side 
stroke was easier, and he turned again on his 
side. He began to be cold, and he turned his eyes 
on the friendly boat. 

George divined what was in his thoughts, and 
spoke distinctly. “ Listen, Chester,” he said ; “ you 
can’t get into the boat. I will not take you in.” 

And Jim, breaking his silence, said : “ No, Ches- 
ter; you must finish. Listen, my boy. You have 
come very well so far, and have less than two 
hundred yards to go in five minutes in order to 
make less than three quarters of an hour. Brace 
up, Chester ! ” 

He heard, and understood; and so, setting his 


" 



“‘ALL OVER!’ CRIED GEORGE. ‘HOW MUCH TIME, JIM?’” 

















. 

























































* 





THE JUNIOR CUP 


119 


teeth, he determined to go on till he sank. So, 
fighting his fatigue and his cold, fighting, too, the 
baffling water, he urged himself onward till to his 
blurred sight trees began to rise above him from 
the shore which was so close. “A little more,” 
cried Bawson from the boat. A little more ! He 
pushed himself onward till the branches overhung 
him, till bushes showed on the water’s edge. How 
much farther ? 

“All over!” cried George, suddenly. “Stand 
up ! ” The boat ran in close beside him. 

Chester put down his feet and found the firm 
bottom just beneath him. He attempted to stand, 
and half raised himself from the water. But his 
muscles refused to work; he fell forward, and 
though in vain he tried to support himself on his 
hands, he plunged beneath the water. Then 
George, dropping the oars, all clothed as he was, 
leaped into the water, and raised in his arms the 
choking boy. 

“ All over ! ” he cried. “ How much time, Jim f ” 

Jim snapped the watch and put it in his pocket. 
The others listened for his answer, and even poor 
Chester, with singing head, tried to catch the words. 

“Forty-four minutes and fifty seconds,” said 
Jim. “ Thirty seconds less than Marshall’s time. 
That means five points for the Cup.” 


CHAPTER VII 


S the sports approached, the last 
day which was to test all the work, 
all the lessons of the summer, there 
passed letters between Mr. Holmes 
and Chester’s father. 

The final letter is of especial interest : 



I am glad that you are coming to the sports [wrote Mr. 
Holmes], and I agree with you that it is wise to keep out of 
Chester’s sight till they are finished, for the additional excite- 
ment might make him too nervous. Whether you see him win 
the Cup or not, I am sure that you will be satisfied with him, for I 
think all has been accomplished that you hoped. His experi- 
ences of the summer have taught him modesty, and I am pleased 
to notice that he is carefully cultivating good nature. He has 
become very popular, and all the camp, except a few boys, are 
partizans on his side in the approaching contest. 


And Mr. Holmes’s report was true, for Chester 
had become a different boy. The two accidents 
that had put it in his power to save life had given 
120 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


121 


him a position of importance which he was not 
slow to improve. While he was training his body 
for the coming competition, he did not forget to 
discipline also the peevish disposition that had 
previously got him into trouble. He found it not 
so very difficult, now that the minds of all were 
prepared to receive him at his best, to prove to 
others, even before he had proved it to himself, 
that he was good-natured. So the little boys 
whose attachment he had begun to cultivate in 
his loneliness were his stanch friends in his pros- 
perity, and the whole camp, except that little knot 
that held aloof, grew fond of Chester. 

The morning of the sports came, and with it 
trouble. For soon after breakfast George Tenney, 
seated by his bed in the shanty, heard his name 
called, and turning, saw Chester coming to him 
with distress and anger in his face. 

“ George ! ” called Chester, again. 

“ What is it, my boy f ” said the older lad. 

“Oh, George,” cried Chester in despair, “my 
running-shoes are gone ! ” 

“Gone?” cried George, springing to his feet. 
“ Where can they have gone 1 ” 

“ I have looked everywhere,” said Chester, “ and 
I have asked everybody. Eawson is hunting for 


122 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


them now. I kept them right on the shelf by my 
bed, and anybody might take them.” 

“ Anybody ? ” George sat down again. “ Then 
of course we know who took them,” he said 
calmly. 

“ But what good does that do ! ” asked Chester. 

George thought. “ None,” he said, after a while. 
“ If he has taken them— you know whom I mean 
—he has been clever enough to hide them well. 
You must run in rubber soles, Chester.” 

It was true. There were but four or five pairs of 
spiked shoes in the camp, all, except those belong- 
ing to Chester and Marshall, the property of the 
older boys. They were consequently all too large. 

“I am sorry,” said Jim Pierce, when he was 
called into the consultation. “ That puts you at a 
great disadvantage, Chester, if Marshall runs in 
spikes and you without. It may cost you the Cup 
—as it was meant to,” he added meaningly 0 And 
after a moment’s silence he spoke again. 

“The Senior Cup is mine,” he said. “George 
won it last year, and by the rules he can’t compete 
again, so I am sure of it. But I would gladly give 
it to you, Chester, if you are beaten out by this 
trick.” 

“ It is no matter,” said Chester, gulping his dis- 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


123 


appointment. And then he looked the two big 
boys in the face, and uttered what he thought: 
“ If I don’t win the Cup, I have won more than the 
Cup, because I have you fellows for my friends. 
And so I shall be satisfied.” 

“ Brrr ! ” said George, with an assumption of 
anger. “ Go lie down, young fellow ! ” And Jim 
stooped to tie his shoe, so that Chester might not 
see his face. But both were pleased at his words. 
And the shoes, though sought for everywhere, were 
not to be found. Not for a year did they turn up, 
carefully tucked away in an unused corner of the 
boat-house. 

Chester did go and lie down, as George told him, 
and kept himself quiet all the morning and for an 
hour after dinner, till the sound of the bugle. 
Then he rose, and ready for the struggle, went down 
to the field. At one part, so placed that they could 
best see everything, was a little crowd of specta- 
tors, fathers and mothers and relatives of the boys, 
or those interested in the camp ; and among them, 
though Chester did not know it, was his father. 
The boy’s heart was beating fast as, with a crowd 
of others, he entered the big field. Other boys sur- 
rounded him, talking nervously. At the sight of 
the place where he was to compete, and of the peo- 


124 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


pie that were to watch him, Chester himself began 
to be very nervous. 

But George and Jim, with Rawson, took him 
apart from the rest to a place where, in the shade, 
they had formed of blankets a screen from the 
wind, and had brought a mattress for him to lie on. 
There was a sponge there, and a towel, and a bot- 
tle marked “ Alcohol.” At a little distance, Chester 
noticed, Marshall had laid down blankets for him- 
self to lie on. Behind the screen, which also cut 
off the view of the spectators, the two big boys 
rubbed Chester down and made him ready for the 
struggle. Of the events of the day I shall describe 
only those that were for the Junior Cup. As 
was expected, the Senior Cup fell into the hands of 
Jim Pierce, who won it with ease. The real con- 
test was between Chester and Marshall ; let us take 
it as it happened, without noticing the one-sided 
events between the older boys. 

“ Remember,” said George, as he rubbed his pro- 
tege, “the quarter-mile comes last, and for that 
you must save yourself. In everything else go 
easy when you can. Never finish your fastest, so 
long as a race is yours. Remember, in the hundred 
and the shot you must have first place. In the 
hurdles and the running high you must have sec- 
ond ; so long as you beat every one else, let Marshall 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


125 


win in these. In the shot and in the running 
broad, do your best.” And as George was conclud- 
ing his summary, Mr. Holmes summoned the con- 
testants to appear. 

The hurdles were the first event, and four boys 
came to the mark for the race. “Kemember,” 
whispered George at the last, “pay no attention 
to Marshall at all. Get a good start, and run 
easily, taking pains only to beat Jack, here; he 
is the next best.” 

Chester stood at the scratch for the first real race 
of his life. He dug the holes for his feet, and 
tested them once or twice, as the older boys had 
showed him. Then he stood and waited. He was 
at one edge of the track, Marshall was at the other, 
and between them were the two other boys. Be- 
fore them were the rows of hurdles. Chester felt 
himself nervous, and glanced at the others ; the two 
were fidgeting visibly, but Marshall was cool, and 
stood waiting, looking straight ahead. In spite of 
his remembrance of all the troubles of the summer, 
and, most recent, the loss of his shoes, Chester 
could not repress a feeling of admiration for that 
graceful figure. 

“Get ready!” said Mr. Holmes. “On your 
marks ! ” 

Chester placed his toes in the holes he had dug, 


126 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


and stooping, placed his fingers on the line drawn 
in front of him. 

“ Get set ! n 

He half straightened his legs, so that his weight 
was thrown forward on his hands, and with his 
arms trembling under the strain and the excitement, 
awaited the signal. 

There was a sharp report from the pistol, and 
the four boys leaped forward. Running for a few 
steps stooping and with a quick step, Chester 
straightened in a moment and lengthened his stride, 
then crooking his forward leg across his body, rose 
for the hurdle. The four boys cleared it together. 

The next ten yards showed how the race was to 
go. Marshall drew ahead, and jumped at the 
fourth stride for the second hurdle. He hurdled 
equally well from either foot, and for him the dis- 
tance was too great for three strides, too short for 
five. Chester rose almost at the same moment and 
from the same foot, with the same twisting body 
and dragging leg, but he was behind. The two 
other boys were already in the rear. A third and 
a fourth hurdle put distances between all four. 
Then Chester slackened pace, and paying attention 
only to the boy behind him, taking care also to 
clear the hurdles without a fall, he finished the race 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


127 


at his ease. Marshall crossed the line a couple of 
yards ahead of him. 

“ Did you see,” said George, as he drew Chester 
out of the crowd, “that Marshall was lying low? 
He slowed up just as soon as you did, and merely 
kept his lead. Oh, he is a clever one ! ” 

Next came the hundred-yards dash, run with only 
enough pause to clear the hurdles off the track and 
run the race for the older hoys. As in the hurdles, 
there were four hoys entered for the race. Of two 
Chester had no fear ; of Marshall he had his douhts, 
for already in the hurdles had he missed his spikes. 
It would he easy to slip. But he took his old holes, 
which were assigned to him by lot, and made him- 
self ready with as much composure as he could for 
the thought that was dinning in his head : This 
race I must win ! As they arranged themselves 
Marshall was now the second from him, and Ches- 
ter was conscious of his presence. But he did not 
look at him now. Instead he caught the eye of the 
hoy next to him, who smiled faintly, and then he 
nodded to little Rawson, who, while George and Jim 
had gone up to the finish, remained to watch the 
start. 

“ Get ready ! ” said Mr. Holmes again ; and Ches- 
ter turned to the track. “ On your marks ! Set ! ” 


128 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


The four backs were bent, the legs and arms were 
quivering. 

Again the report, and the four leaped forward ; 
but the treacherous earth, never firm enough for a 
good track, slipped under the rubber, and Chester 
was behind, a yard lost in the first second, and con- 
fused in his stride. With that disadvantage it took 
him twenty yards to recover himself. In another 
twenty he had passed the two slower boys, but 
Marshall was ahead. He strained to overtake the 
flying figure, the fierce scratch of whose spikes on 
the track, and whose quick panting breath, he 
noticed even in the fury of the race. Inch after 
inch he drew up on him, but the distance was so 
short ! They reached the first of the crowd that 

lined the track on either side. Chester was con- 
# 

scious that he was flying past people who were 
shouting, and he knew that at last he was at the 
shoulder of the figure that but now was in front of 
him. A final effort, with lunging arms and head 
dropped low on his chest. He felt the rush of air 
on his face ; he knew that the crowd was roaring ; 
then he felt the slight pull of the worsted across his 
breast, and knew that the race was over. He 
threw up his hands to throw himself out of his 
stride, then slowed up and stopped, while the others 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


129 


ran on for a few more yards. He turned; who 
had won ? 

A familiar figure, which yet he could not recog- 
nize for the surging blood that throbbed in his head 
and confused his vision, came running toward him. 
But it spoke, and he knew the voice. It was George. 

“ A good race, Chester ! 99 The tone was joyous ; 
then it must be all right ! 

“ Who won ? 99 asked Chester, out of a dry throat. 

“ Why, you did, by a good foot ! 99 And so the 
judges presently declared, and Chester was led 
away to his mattress. 

Then came, among tedious waits, what George 
called the “ mere formalities 99 of the field events. 
They were foredestined, and every one knew it. 
First the broad jump went to Marshall, Chester fol- 
lowing. Then Chester took the shot-putting, with 
Marshall second. Last, in the high jump, Chester 
left the contest as soon as all but he and Marshall 
had fallen out. He remained for a moment to 
watch Marshall jump; but he, clearing the bar 
once to insure his place, took up his sweater and 
walked away to his blanket. 

“ Oh, he is a clever one ! 99 said George, again. 
“ He is n’t going to waste any strength in exhibi- 
tion jumps.” 

8 


130 


THE JUNIOK CUP 


Chester lay on his mattress while for the last 
time George rubbed his legs. What he thought in 
those moments was enough to make him nervous, 
for everything depended on the last short contest, 
lasting only a minute, which was soon to come. 
The score was even between him and Marshall; 
who won the quarter-mile won the Cup. The 
work of the summer, his own efforts, with the care- 
ful schooling of the older boys— all would be tested 
by that single race. And the Cup itself, the beau- 
tiful piece of silver of which he had caught but 
one glimpse the day before as it was unpacked from 
its wrappings, would then either be his own, to 
take home and show to his father and keep always, 
or would go to Marshall. 

But he was content. Excited as he was, and 
hopeful, he kept repeating to himself one thing : 
that he had had a happy summer, that he had 
gained the friends he wanted, and that nothing else 
mattered. For with an intuition almost beyond his 
years he had come in the past few days to know 
what meant the lessons of the summer, and to un- 
derstand, if vaguely, the value of his new friends. 
He understood at last what Mr. Holmes had meant 
when he said : “ There is little that any one of us 
can accomplish alone.” It is not well for a boy to 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


131 


think too seriously on these things, lest he become 
old before his time. And, fortunately for him, 
Chester did not know much beyond this : that what 
he had learned he was never to unlearn, and that 
good friends were the finest things that a boy could 
have. So, in spite of excitement, he waited the 
final race with contentment at the result. 

And Marshall! We have not seen much of the 
workings of his mind, which would perhaps be 
an unpleasant, even if profitable, study. It is a 
little difficult to guess what he thought, as, apart 
from the crowd, he too lay and waited for the race. 
Did he think of the other boy whom he might have 
kept for his friend, who now was engaged with him 
in earnest competition ! If Marshall, too, reviewed 
the summer as he lay, did he, too, congratulate 
himself on its close ! No ; bitter was his soul as he 
rose for the last race ; sullen was his resolve to win 
—to win ! 

“ Jim has won the Senior Cup ! ” cried Rawson, 
appearing before George and Chester. 

“ I am glad ! ” cried they both. 

“ And it ’s time for Chester,” added the little fel- 
low. “Mr. Holmes is calling for the Junior quar- 
ter-mile.” 

They rose and went, and presently all the con- 


132 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


testants were gathered at the starting-place. There 
were seven in all, a large number for the narrow 
track, where for a straightaway but four could run 
comfortably abreast. Yet Mr. Holmes knew that 
to run them in heats would be too severe a strain, 
and he knew also that in a moment after the start 
they would be spread in a line around the curve of 
the track. Therefore he decided to run them in one 
race, and shook up in a hat their names on pieces 
of paper, to draw for positions. By accident Ches- 
ter drew the inside place, giving him the advantage, 
and Marshall was the one next him at his right 
hand. The other five boys were spread out across 
the track. 

For the last time Chester scraped the holes for 
his feet, and looked to the lacings of his shoes. He 
was intensely conscious of all that was going on 
about him. At the inside of the track, close to his 
elbow, was a group of the older boys, and the 
judges. On the outside, close to the line which was 
at once starting-point and finish, were the visitors. 
From them came a continual murmur, with the 
rustle of dresses. Behind him stood Mr. Holmes, 
who gave Chester one glance of encouragement 
when their eyes met. And at his side were the 
other boys, employed as he himself, while close to 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


133 


him, almost touching, was Marshall. It happened 
that the two boys turned toward each other at the 
same moment, perhaps not accidentally, and looked 
each other in the face. Chester tried to smile, but 
there was a cold glitter in the other’s eye, and a 
hard expression at his mouth, as he turned away. 

“ Get ready ! ” said Mr. Holmes. The boys all 
stooped; the spectators pressed up closer; the 
timers stood waiting, their watches in their hands. 
“ On your marks ! Set ! ” Close to Chester was 
Marshall, his elbow touching the other’s side. 
Chester felt it, Mr. Holmes saw it, but each said to 
himself : “ It can’t be helped ; the other boys are 
just as close together.” 

Mr. Holmes fired. 

A scramble, a panting rush, and they were off. 
What 1 All but Chester, who had fallen at the side 
of the track. None had seen the shrewd push that 
had sent him sprawling in the grass. None had 
seen, but some suspected, and wild with rage, 
George sprang forward and pulled Chester to his 
feet. 

“ Will you claim foul ? ” he roared. 

“ No ! ” answered Chester, equally furious ; and 
springing to the track, he touched his foot to the 
line and was off after the rest. 


134 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


But what a handicap! Fifteen yards divided 
Chester from his nearest competitor, and a hunch 
of five boys shut him off from Marshall, who was 
already leading. Yet now he neither missed his 
spikes, nor counted the distance as anything, for 
the black anger that surged in his breast. His legs 
were springs, his feet shod like those of Mercury, 
as, scarcely feeling the ground, he sped after the 
rest. His muscles were tense, his sinews like 
bowstrings, as stride by stride he gained on them. 
They were at the turn ; he saw Marshall already on 
the curve, but he himself was close behind the boy 
next in front, and in a moment was ready to pass 
him. He had to take a wider curve, and so to run 
a longer distance than the rest, in order to pass the 
close huddle. But one by one he cut them down 
and left them struggling behind ; as he came out on 
the straight, Marshall only was in front. Spurred 
by the sting of his anger, foot by foot he crept up ; 
nearer and nearer the leader heard the footsteps 
behind him, until at last the two boys were running 
shoulder to shoulder. 

A burst of applause, faint in the distance and 
from the rushing air in his ears, came to Chester 
from across the field. Stride for stride, yard for 
yard, he held his place till they had passed the half- 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


135 


way mark and were at the second turn. Now was 
the test ; after that tremendous spurt could he yet 
hold out I He was sure of it. The skilled driver 
of his will, trained through all the summer, was 
holding well in hand, like mettled horses, his mus- 
cles and his burning resentment. Round the curve 
the two boys swept, their feet striking in unison, 
their hands swinging low, their eyes on the track. 
Side by side they swung into the straight. In a 
moment there were but fifty yards more, and 
Chester knew that he could finish. 

“ Now ! 19 said he aloud. There was a thrill of 
challenge in his voice, and Marshall heard him. 
Their superbly regular movements changed sud- 
denly into the splendid broken action of the 
sprinter. Each was nearly at the end of his 
powers, each was putting forth now what final 
force he could call to his aid; and Chester sum- 
moned more than Marshall had. The caldron of 
his passion was still boiling, and its heat and its 
force gave unconquerable energy to his light-mov- 
ing limbs. With grim joy he saw that he was gain- 
ing. Still he rushed forward ; but Marshall could 
not respond. At his utmost speed Chester crossed 
the line, but breathless and tottering, Marshall could 
scarcely finish. 


136 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


And so the great day was over, and the contest 
was finished, and everybody cheered and waved 
and made fools of themselves. Chester’s face was 
covered with confusion when he was led forward to 
receive the Cup, but his happiness was running over 
when he found himself in the arms of his father. 
And so the camp must slip out of our sight, for 
its story is done. Yet, while for the present we 
dismiss Marshall, though with pity in our hearts, 
before going on to what happened later in the lives 
of the boys let us give a last glance at Chester 
and his friends. 

As soon as he could Chester introduced his father 
to his three friends, Rawson and George and Jim. 
“ These are my friends, father,” he said, somewhat 
moved, “ without whom I could not have won the 
Cup, and whom I prize more than the Cup.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” muttered George, digging with his 
foot in the ground, for he was abashed in the pres- 
ence of Chester’s father. He did not wonder at the 
way in which Chester spoke, for he knew the boy’s 
affectionate disposition. But he did wonder, and 
the others wondered, too, that Mr. Fiske’s voice 
trembled as he thanked them for what they had 
done for his son. But Mr. Holmes, who stood by, 
wondered not at all. 


CHAPTER VIII 


F a man may feel gratified at the 
working of a plan, or prond of its 
success, Mr. Fiske certainly had the 
right. He enjoyed it as he held in 
his hand the Cup that his son had 
won, and read in his face the changes which the 
summer had brought about. Yet the very com- 
pleteness of Chester’s reform carried with it the 
seeds of destruction, and Mr. Fiske reflected with a 
little doubt upon the praises that would be show- 
ered on the lad by his aunts and sisters at home. 
He saw that success carried with it the duty to 
keep what had been gained. What should be 
done? 

It was Mr. Holmes who showed the way. He 
mentioned that he had been offered the position 
of head-master at the Stonefield School for boys. 

“ And you have accepted, I hope ? ” asked Mr. 
Fiske, quickly. 

“Yes,” was the reply. 

137 



138 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“Then,” cried Chester’s father, striking his 
hands together with energy, “the boy shall go 
with you ! ” 

And to that decision, though suddenly made, 
he adhered. There was outcry at home, but Mr. 
Fiske was not to be changed. 

“Boarding-schools are not for every boy,” he 
agreed. “ For Chester, however, nothing else will 
do. He has made a fine stride toward manliness 
at the camp. I cannot have him slipping back. 
Anna,” he said testily to his sister’s interruption, 
“ do you suppose I am glad to part from the boy f 
And besides, Mr. Holmes will still have his eye 
on him. It ’s a chance not to be lost.” So Mr. 
Fiske sent his son away from his side, concealing, 
with the stoicism of a Roman, the self-denial 
which Chester did not appreciate until after-years. 

A year and a half in the school brought Chester 
to a position which some envied. It began to be 
whispered, “ Chester is sure to be captain of the 
nine next year.” Wherever that was said, it was 
evident by the expression on the faces of the 
hearers that Chester was on the way to the highest 
position in the school. 

Scholarship aside, that was true. And scholar- 
ship included, there was no glory in the eyes of 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


139 


the boys equal to that of captain of the nine. 
Chester himself longed for it and worked for it, 
as the best ending of his school life, and as the 
best introduction for him at college. And what 
much helped him to it was his simple habit of 
life, which was essentially manly. At least his 
digestion was good and his lungs were strong. 
Moreover, there lay nothing on his conscience. For 
to be manly one need not be a man. Chester aped 
no grown-up doings, had no mannish talk, pre- 
tended to no worldly wisdom, and felt no wish to 
acquire the small bad habits which mark the lower 
rather than the higher side of man’s estate. 

Thus began Chester’s third half-year, which was 
the third from the last. Returning from vacation, 
he unpacked his trunk, discarded his hat for a cap, 
and in the absence of his room-mate (not yet 
arrived) set out to find old friends, make new 
ones, and to shuffle off as well as he might the 
feeling of homesickness which yet clung to him. 

The familiar sights, the long corridors resound- 
ing, the bustle of the new arrivals, made him at 
once himself. Old friends came and locked arms 
with him. They wandered to kitchen and library, 
school-room and gymnasium ; for it was one of the 
two free afternoons in the term (the other being 


140 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


before departure) when there were no rules. They 
stood before the bulletin-board and read the old 
notices, amusing now with their reminders of the 
past. But while they stood there a big boy came 
and posted up the first notice of the new term. It 
was Stukeley, the captain of the nine. 

“ Hullo, Chester,” he said ; “ here ’s something 
for you to read.” 

And Chester was pleased with the attention 
from his chief. The bulletin read : “ Baseball 
practice begins next Monday afternoon in the 
gymnasium. Candidates report at four o’clock.” 

“ Hey, Chester ! ” said a companion, and nudged 
him in the side. “ Hey? You going to catch, this 
year?” 

“ Oh, go ’long,” replied Chester. “Stukeley 
catches, of course. I ’m lucky if I ’m in the 
field.” 

“ But next year, surely,” said one of the boys. 
“ And captain, too.” 

“Don’t, Johnny,” protested Chester, blushing. 
Chester still could blush. 

A boy came by. “ Mr. Holmes is looking for 
you, Chester.” 

“ Where ? ” asked Chester. 

“ He was in the upper hall.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


141 


Chester hastened there. But Mr. Holmes had 
gone. 

“Hard to find him,” said a boy of experience. 
“ I think he went to his study.” 

Chester went downstairs again. There he saw 
Mr. Holmes talking with a gentleman. They went 
up the stairs together. Chester followed slowly. 
A group of friends detained him. When he 
reached the upper hall once more Mr. Holmes was 
not to be seen. 

“ Oh,” said a boy of whom he inquired, “ he ’s 
gone with somebody’s father, showing him the 
school.” Chester knew that was a matter of more 
than a quarter-hour, and for the present gave up 
the chase. He went back to his own room to see 
if his room-mate had come. 

A trunk stood open by the bed. Shoes, neck- 
ties, underwear, and coats were on all horizontal 
surfaces, including the floor. The bureau drawers 
were open, and a short, square, ruddy lad was 
cramming them full. Chester stood and watched 
him. The boy reached for a pile of underwear. “ It 
takes so long to pack ! ” he said. “ But I can un- 
pack in ten minutes, arranging things afterward.” 

“ A bad habit, Rawson,” said Chester. 

“ Whoop ! ” cried his friend, and turning, thudded 


142 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


the whole pile of soft clothing into Chester’s breast. 
“ Here we are again ! ” 

Such a greeting between old friends ! Do boys 
ever do the same elsewhere? Do they rush into 
one another’s arms, and, instead of embracing, 
wrestle? Do they punch heads, cry names such 
as “ rascal ” and “ fellow,” and crash shouting upon 
the groaning bed? If they do not, I am almost 
afraid to indicate what Chester and Rawson did, 
and so say nothing. Yet they were good friends, 
too, a proverb in the school. 

So, drawing a veil upon their previous actions, 
we will picture the two gathering up the scattered 
clothes, and with one purpose only— that of haste 
—stuffing them into the bureau. “ Oh,” Rawson 
was saying, “ I want to get into the corridor and 
see the boys.” 

“Is this,” spoke a soft voice at the door, a 
woman’s voice, “ the room of Chester Fiske ? ” 

A lady stood on the threshold— “ the right 
kind,” the boys saw at a glance; gentle, sweet, 
and lovable, but with a paleness in her cheek that 
meant ill health. Somebody’s mother, the boys 
knew at once. 

“ Yes,” she said when the boys turned ; “ you 
are Chester Fiske. I know your face.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


143 


“Won’t you come in, madam?” asked Chester. 

She entered hesitating. “ I hope I do not inter- 
rupt, and yet I wish to speak to you. Oh, don’t 
go,” she cried, as Rawson moved to the door. 
“You are Rawson, are n’t you? May I speak to 
you, too ? ” 

“ How does she know us ? ” both boys thought. 
Chester answered the question in his own way: 
“ You know my father, madam?” 

“ No,” she answered ; “ I have seen you before.” 
She hesitated to say where ; she still remembered 
the pang when Chester destroyed one of her 
dearest hopes, and could not speak of it. “You 
know my son. He is coming here to school this 
term, and oh, I do hope that you will be friends ! ” 

“ Why, yes,” said Rawson, bold to promise ; “ I 
am sure we shall be friends.” 

She held a hand to each of the boys, and drew 
them to her. “ I must leave him among strangers. 
I must go away on account of my health, and 
where I am going there is no school for him. So 
many times I have separated from him and left 
him to himself ! I am so glad you two are here ; 
he used to know you both. You will help him, 
won’t you ? ” 

“What is his name?” both of the boys 


144 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


were wondering. But there was no hesitating. 
“ Yes’m,” they said together, soberly on account of 
her earnestness. 

“ He is a little headstrong,” she said ; “ and he 
has n’t had much care. I have been so sick at 
times, and he has no father. Oh, boys, I shall de- 
pend upon you— you and Mr. Holmes— to make 
him happy ! He has faults. Dear boys, you will 
be patient with him, won’t you ? ” 

Wondering, they answered “ Yes” again. 

“ You never saw me before,” she said. “ But I 
hope you do not dislike me.” They could but like 
her. The touch of her hand, the look of her face, 
were enough for that. And her appeal to them 
touched all their chivalry. 

“ Oh, yes,” they cried ; “ we do ! ” 

“ I hope you will like my boy. I feel better at 
leaving him, now I have seen you here. Good-by, 
dear boys. I thank you for your promise.” 

She pressed their hands warmly. “ Good-by,” 
she said once more, and left them. 

Though they were alone in the room, they could 
not speak to each other. Neither had ever known 
a mother. Each thought, “If I had a mother 
like that ! ” 

“Well,” said Chester at last, with an effort, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


145 


“let ’s finish your unpacking and go along. Mr. 
Holmes wants to see me.” They finished it to- 
gether in silence, each thinking of the lady, 
neglecting, in the thought of her, to wonder more 
about her son. Presently they went out into the 
corridors. 

But Mr. Holmes was not to be found. Though 
Chester and Rawson searched first the upper and 
then the lower corridor, the school-rooms, and 
even the dining-hall, there was no Mr. Holmes to 
be seen. They finally came back to the bulletin- 
board. Many of the boys were gathered there. 

Of the upper class there was Stukeley again, to 
be noticed by whom was an honor to make a small 
boy pink ; and Joe Taylor, the quiet scholar whom 
the boys called “ Jeremy,” and loved (though they 
did not know it) as much as Stukeley. He was a 
boy of unyielding principle, and his influence was 
so strong in the school that Mr. Holmes had 
made him head monitor. And of the Second Class 
were several boys, all of whom, being diffident 
about speaking to the older boys, immediately 
swarmed upon Chester and Rawson with cries of 
welcome. 

There was the vacation to be discussed and ex- 
periences at home to be compared. And news of 


146 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


the new term, notable among the items of which 
was the fact that Otto Beech was not coming back, 
and that there was a new boy in his place, going 
to room with Ben Farley— a Second Class boy, 
therefore. And he had stunning things, nothing 
less than a gold watch, and lots of books, and a 
baseball outfit not to be beat. And Walter Rogers 
was back with a black eye, which the boys were 
sure he got in a fight, because Walter insisted that 
he hit himself on the corner of a bookcase. 

Then Stukeley pushed into the group, and said 
a word to Rawson. And he laid his hand on 
Chester’s shoulder and said: “I mean to coach 
you a lot, this spring.” Chester could scarcely find 
words’ to thank him. And while Rawson was 
nudging the nearest boy, both as pleased as 
Chester was himself, there was a stir at the door, 
and a great voice, recognized by all as belonging 
to Ben Farley, roared through the hall: “New 
boy ! ” All turned and looked. 

There was the new boy, sure enough, well 
dressed, handsome, and not quite at home. In 
fact, his manner was nervous. He felt the cruelty 
of Ben Farley’s introduction, and as a dozen pairs 
of eyes were suddenly fixed on him, he wished 
himself away. But a boy can’t run ; though flush- 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


147 


ing, he stood resolutely. Then, as Stukeley turned 
to look, the whole group shifted position, and 
Chester and the new boy came face to face. 

The new boy was expecting the meeting; he 
waited. Chester was surprised, aud needed a mo- 
ment to gather his wits. After nearly two years 
he recognized the other, remembering the circum- 
stances of their last meeting. And though he did 
not consider it just then, this time the positions 
were reversed : Chester was the old boy, Marshall 
was the new. For it was Marshall Moore. 

A moment they stood so, just long enough for 
the other boys to see the recognition. Then came 
another bellow from Ben Farley : “ Oh, Marshall, 
your mother wants you ! ” And Marshall turned 
and went away. 

Chester looked at Rawson. The other boys 
crowded around. Even Stukeley forgot his dignity 
and pushed in with the rest. “ Do you know him, 
Chester?” he demanded. “Do you know him, 
Rawson ! ” 

Rawson returned Chester’s glance. “ Why, yes,” 
he answered, not looking at Stukeley ; “ we know 
him.” 

“ Yes,” said Chester; “we know him.” 

“Who is he?” asked Stukeley. And the boys 


148 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


all cried together: “ Where did you know him?” 
“ What is his name 1 ” “ Tell us about him ! ” 

Rawson and Chester still looked at each other. 
The remembrance of the summer at the camp, the 
echo of old animosities and injuries, rose in the 
minds of both and sparkled in their eyes. Recol- 
lections came crowding. “We can be even with 
him now ! 99 thought both the boys. They forgot 
for a moment that they had been even with him 
then. Chester made ready to speak words to ex- 
press his feelings. He forgot that so much time 
had passed, that he had the power to spoil com- 
pletely Marshall’s life at school. 

“ His name is Marshall Moore,” he said. “ He is 
a boy I never—” 

“—Could trust,” he was about to say. But a 
voice, a little hurried, interrupted, and there stood 
Mr. Holmes. 

“ Chester,” he said, “ I wish to speak to you at 
once.” 

Mr. Holmes usually persuaded, but when he 
chose he could command. There was an emphasis 
on the “ at once ” that stopped Chester’s voice like 
a hand on his mouth. He turned to obey. “You 
too, Rawson,” added Mr. Holmes ; and Rawson fol- 
lowed without a word. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


149 


When Chester afterward thought of that mo- 
ment, he could never be sufficiently thankful for 
the instant of time that saved him. 

Mr. Holmes led the way to his study, a room 
with all his athletic trophies, beautifully furnished, 
loved by the boys. Chester and Rawson followed, 
a little interested in what was to come, but more 
taken up with their discovery. Marshall Moore at 
the school ! They did not speak as they kept close 
behind Mr. Holmes, but their glances showed their 
feelings. Marshall was at their mercy, and they 
knew it. The knowledge came suddenly, too sud- 
denly for any but one feeling to show itself— the 
old-time desire for revenge. 

No ; Chester and Rawson were not yet thoroughly 
manly. 

Mr. Holmes let them into the study and shut 
the door. The boys were upon him at once. “ Oh, 
Mr. Holmes ! ” they cried together. 

“ Well? ” he asked. 

“ Marshall Moore is at the school ! ” 

“Yes,” he responded; “I know it. It is about 
him that I wish to speak with you.” 

The boys were taken aback. Mr. Holmes was 
calm and reflective ; they saw no gleam of exulta- 
tion in his eye. In reality he was thinking how 


150 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


best to open his subject. The boys’ glances wan- 
dered to each other, to the floor, then out the win- 
dow. There they saw a sight that roused them. 

The lady, she who had come to their room, was 
going away. Her carriage stood at the roadside, 
waiting ; she was talking with a boy, her son. They 
saw her lips move as she spoke to the boy, whose 
back was toward them. By the same impulse they 
moved nearer the window to see better. Mr. 
Holmes waited. 

They saw her lovely, earnest face ; could remem- 
ber the kindly tones of her voice, and almost heard 
them in imagination. Her sweet eyes were on her 
son ; they could see her lips tremble, and read her 
emotion. The same thought came to both the 
boys: “Oh, to be loved like that!” Forgetful of 
manners, they watched her take farewell, kiss her 
boy, turn at the carriage door for a last look, then 
vanish. The carriage whirled her away, and they 
with her son stood gazing after. Then the boy 
turned to come into the school, and they looked 
at him. 

It was Marshall ! 

He looked up, and saw them staring; frowned, 
and passed out of sight. Both boys felt as if every 
idea were gone. “ She is his mother ! ” exclaimed 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


151 


Chester. They forgot Mr. Holmes, forgot every- 
thing else, and looked at each other amazed. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Holmes, presently; “she is his 
mother. Have yon spoken to her?” 

“Why, she came to onr room,” explained 
Rawson. 

“ And she asked ns to promise to be good to her 
boy,” said Chester. “We did n’t know who he 
was.” 

“ Now that yon know,” asked Mr. Holmes, “ will 
yon keep yonr promise ? ” 

They hesitated. 

“Wait,” said the master, “nntil I have said my 
say.” 


CHAPTER IX 


HERE was a fire glowing in the 
grate. Mr. Holmes moved his 
chair to the hearth. “Draw up, 
hoys,” he said. They seated them- 
selves before the coals, and waited 
for the master to speak. He studied the fire for 
a little while, then raised his eyes to their faces, 
commanded their attention by his glance, and 
began. 

“ I have n’t a word to say, Chester,” he said, 
“ in defense of the things that Marshall did to you 
that summer at the camp. Not a word. They 
were mean ; they were unfair. But I wish to tell 
you boys the story of Marshall’s life, as he does 
not know it himself, and see if you cannot find in 
your hearts some pity for him. 

“ Marshall has never had a home. I know that 
you, Rawson, have not, either. But things have 
gone worse with Marshall than with you. His 
father died when he was young, his mother has 

152 



THE JUNIOR CUP 


153 


always been ill, and Marshall has been to school 
after school, in Europe, England, and America, 
never two years in the same place, never two years 
under the same influences. What he needed he 
never had— a firm hand over him. You have had 
your father, Chester ; and your guardian, Rawson, 
has watched you always. But from the time when 
he was five years old Marshall has never had re- 
straint, and the result has been very bad for him. 

“If you can imagine what it is to be always 
among strangers, you will have some idea of Mar- 
shall’s life. You don’t know it, Rawson, though 
you may think you do. You have the faculty of 
making friends. Marshall has never yet been 
truly happy except with his mother; and she, on 
account of her health, has always had to live 
among the mountains, where there have not been 
good schools for Marshall’s education. 

“ The result has been bad. I once believed it 
was impossible to reform him. But he has had a 
deep experience in the desperate illness from 
which his mother has just recovered. He has 
promised — not carelessly, boys. I have under- 
taken to help him. But I can do very little unless 
you help me.” 

For Mr. Holmes knew that in a boarding-school 


154 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


the masters, while their influence was strong, 
could not reach a boy as his mates could, could 
never exercise over him the same constant influ- 
ence, could not stand at his elbow in every temp- 
tation of his life. The boys must help him. 

“ I speak to you frankly,” he said. “ His mother 
is anxious about him. He was expelled from his 
last school. You are never to say this of him, 
remember.” The boys felt that they would rather 
die than tell. “And we must, must , must help 
him here and now, or I shall have the greatest 
disappointment of my life.” 

He rose and walked about. The boys sat 
silent ; they did not dare look at each other. Mr. 
Holmes came back and stood by his chair. 

“In taking Marshall into the school,” he said, 
“ I deliberately ran a risk. You two know him, 
and have cause to dislike him. But I believed I 
could depend upon you. I trust in your generos- 
ity ; I am not afraid to appeal to it. You are in 
a position to spoil, by a word, every chance that 
Marshall has of succeeding here at school. I beg 
of you not to speak.” 

The hair rose on Chester’s head. He had almost 
said the word ! On Rawson’s face was something 
as near fright as ever appeared there. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


155 


“And if yon can help me,” concluded Mr. 
Holmes, “ I shall be greatly obliged.” 

Chester found his voice. “ Oh, Mr. Holmes,” he 
cried, “ we will help you all we can ! ” And Raw- 
son said the same. 

“ Thank you, boys,” said the master. He spoke 
a few words of courage and energy, and then dis- 
missed them. They left with a sense of having 
promised solemnly. They felt, also, a confidence 
inspired by Mr. Holmes, and when presently they 
met the First Class boys again, Chester spoke to 
them with a boldness he really felt. 

“ That new boy,” he said, “ I believe we ’ll like. 
And,” he added, “ he used to be a first-rate ball- 
player.” 

But when the two were together in their room, 
the enthusiasm having passed, they looked at each 
other in doubt. They knew how hard it was for 
a boy to reform. 

And Marshall knew it too. Had n’t he tried? 
Had n’t he, in school after school, made fresh be- 
ginning after fresh beginning, only to fail ? Some- 
times the circumstances of his wandering life had 
led him away from true friends and a good start. 
He had been discouraged; even now he was on 
the verge of recklessness. To be good meant 


156 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


hard work ; to have a good time was easy, and oh, 
he did enjoy a good time ! 

The influence of his mother was strong upon 
him. But as Marshall faced the school, thinking 
that of all its hoys he knew but two, and that 
those were two he might fairly count his enemies, 
he recognized the odds against him. He knew 
how slight, in certain ways, was the protection of 
the head-master. He knew how strong a preju- 
dice could be excited against him by the word of 
one influential boy. That Chester had an influ- 
ence he could well believe. It took all his courage 
to go to the school and face Chester again. Know- 
ing what his own feelings would be in Chester’s 
place, he could not expect forgiveness. He went 
to please his mother, but he counted upon the 
worst experience of his life. “I ’ll stand it as 
long as I can,” he said to himself at last ; “ then 
I ’ll get out.” 

He went to his room. A lean, tall boy detained 
him. “My name is Joe Taylor— Jeremy,’ they 
call me. I ’ve heard of you from Chester Fiske. 
My room is near yours ; if I can do anything for 
you, let me know.” 

Marshall stammered in surprise. The lean stu- 
dent left him as another boy approached. “ I ’m 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


157 


Stukeley, the baseball captain,” said this one. 
“ Chester Fiske says you can play good ball. You 
must try for the nine. Practice begins on Monday.” 

Marshall could scarcely believe his ears. “ They 
are fooling me,” he thought. But Chester himself 
met him next, and held out his hand. He was 
evidently hurrying somewhere on an errand, but 
paused to say cordially, “ Glad to see you, Mar- 
shall.” Marshall sooner would have expected a 
blow in the face. 

He went to his room. There was Ben Farley, 
lying on his back on the window-seat, playing on 
his harmonica. He nodded, but did not cease play- 
ing. Marshall sat down. He was sensitive to 
music; his room-mate was a skilful player. Ben 
drew from the harmonica strains as from a violin ; 
he looked up into the corners of the ceiling 
dreamily, for he was an artist, and wandering 
chords breathed softly from his mouth. Ben 
looked like a cherub ; Marshall for a moment felt 
like one. Marshall had received the pleasantest 
sensation of years. Chester meant to be good to 
him. He began to feel confidence in himself. 

But presently Ben took the organ from his 
mouth and sat up. He still looked like a cherub, 
plump and cheerful. 


158 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ So,” he remarked, “ you and Chester Fiske are 
ancient enemies.” 

“ What ! ” cried Marshall. The blow in the face 
had come. 

He did not think Ben was guessing— romancing, 
rather. Ben was fond of twisting the truth into 
extravagances; this time he had stumbled on an 
unsuspected reality. Marshall was shrewd, but 
astonishment carried him away. He missed Ben’s 
momentary look of surprise, then his delight. He 
saw only the mask that concealed them— innocence 
again. 

“ Why, yes,” said Ben. “ Some trouble you two 
had a year or two ago. What was it, anyway f ” 

“ Why, he— he— ” cried Marshall. He realized, 
in spite of sudden anger, that he had no accusa- 
tion to make against Chester. “ Nothing,” he 
ended sullenly. “ If Chester wants to talk, let him. 
I ’ve nothing to say.” 

Ben’s discovery lacked completeness. “ Oh, 
well,” he said, feeling his way, “he did n’t say 
much— just hinted round. Bather mean of him, 
I think. Now if you ’d speak up and tell your 
side, we could confute him.” 

“ Confute ! ” said Marshall, bitterly. “ I ’ve no- 
thing to confute.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


159 


Ben sprang np and struck an attitude. “ I see,” 
he said, “ there is some mystery here ! ” He paced 
the floor, frowning and nodding, then came and 
put a hand on Marshall’s shoulder. “ Never mind,” 
he said. “ Cheer up, my boy. Are we not room- 
mates ? I will stand or fall with you ! ” 

“ Thank you,” said Marshall, dejectedly. His 
mood was dark again, and his perceptions dulled. 
Had he been himself he would have perceived 
Ben’s theatric gestures and phrases, and have 
recognized the actor in the boy. Ben’s artistic 
blood led him to constant mummery ; he was al- 
ways pretending, even to himself. But Marshall 
did not see. 

“ Ha ! ” said Ben, pausing. “ What ’s that ? 
Hist ! ” 

“ Nothing,” answered Marshall. 

“ I cannot be mistaken,” said Ben. “ Listen ! ” 
Marshall listened. There were noises in the 
corridor— the sound of tiptoeing feet, whisperings, 
gigglings, and a suppressed cough. Ben sped to the 
door and put a shoulder against it. He turned to 
Marshall a face as white as at impending danger. 
“ Fly ! ” he whispered. 

Marshall rose, puzzled. u What is it ? ” 

“ The Third Class ! ” answered Ben, horror- 


160 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


stricken. “ When a new boy comes, if the class 
next below can catch him before he can put his 
hand on the chapel knocker for sanctuary, they 
can claim a treat all round, or make him sing a 
song at supper. They ’ve come ” — he paused and 
gasped— “ for you ! There is no escape.” 

“ The chapel knocker ? ” asked Marshall. The 
chapel was at the very end of the long row of 
buildings. He looked out. The window was some 
distance from the frozen ground, but he opened it. 
“ Let them come in,” he said. 

Ben stepped away from the door. A moment, 
and the handle turned slowly. Then the door 
opened quickly. A dozen boys, members of the 
Third Class, were clustered at the threshold. 

“ Boys,” cried Ben, in earnest sadness, “ I beg of 
you—” 

“ Oh, shut up, Ben ! ” said they. 

Marshall sat on the window-seat. “ You want 
me ? ” he asked. 

“ It ? s the custom of the school—” began the 
leader. But Marshall slipped out of the window 
on to the broad gutter. The house had a French 
roof, and on the window-ledge a boy could walk 
with safety. The boys made a rush after him. 
Then, as Marshall started for the next window, it 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


161 


opened, and grinning heads appeared. Boys were 
before and behind. He was trapped. 

But he was in no mood to yield. He looked at 
the roof above him, but the sloping sides were so 
steep he could not climb to it. He looked down, 
and saw a spout descending. The boys, clamber- 
ing after him, were close at hand. He sat down 
near the spout, grasped the gutter, and swung 
himself into space. 

The boys cried out in alarm. Marshall did not 
heed. It was easy for him to hang with one hand 
for an instant, seize the spout, and lower himself 
upon it. The spout was stout and bore him. He 
climbed down it quickly, while the boys, with cran- 
ing necks and bated breath, watched him from 
above. He reached the ground, cast no glance 
behind, and walked deliberately to the chapel. 
There he touched the knocker and turned back. 
A group of the First Class boys met him. 

“ Where did you learn to do that f ” they asked him. 

“ On board ship,” he answered, and turned away 
from them. He was not in a sociable frame of 
mind, and seeing before him the sunset and a 
quiet path, he pulled his cap from his pocket, set it 
on his head, and walked away by himself, leaving 

groups of the boys looking after him. 

10 


162 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Among them Ben Farley craned his neck from 
the window with a curiosity greater than the rest. 
Curiosity was, in fact, Ben’s special weakness. 
He had an overmastering desire to pry into pri- 
vate affairs, and when once he had discovered one 
he was keen in studying it out. To this particular 
employment Ben brought an amount of industry 
that would better have been employed in other 
matters; the very hint of something concealed 
would make him fidget for days in the endeavor to 
find it out, as boys knew who wished to tease him. 
Just now he found himself on the scent of a real 
mystery, something of importance to Marshall, and 
all his faculties were awake with the desire to mas- 
ter the secret. He could not rest until he saw 
Chester Fiske, and at once seeking him out, 
watched an opportunity and drew him aside. 

“ Did you see Marshall climb down the spout ? ” 
he asked. “ Did n’t he do it well ? ” 

“ I did n’t see him,” answered Chester. “ It was 
a hard thing to do, but he always was a good 
athlete.” 

“Kind of an all-round athlete?” asked Ben. 
“ Good in everything, was n’t he ? ” 

“ Indeed he was,” agreed Chester, and smiled at his 
recollections. “ He gave me enough trouble once.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


163 


Ben’s heart beat faster, but he inquired care- 
lessly : “ How was that? ” 

“Why,” explained Chester, “it was at a camp 
where we were, a summer camp. We had sports, 
competing for a cup, and it was about as close be- 
tween Marshall and me as it well could be.” 

“Who won?” asked Ben, promptly— too 
promptly, for Chester looked at him and began to 
smile. Here was a chance to tease Ben. 

“We both won,” he said. “Therefore the Cup 
was given to number three.” 

“Oh, go on,” retorted Ben. “You can’t fool 
me. Who won, Chester ? ” 

“ To tell the truth, Ben,” answered Chester, who 
began to feel that perhaps it was like boasting to 
speak more of the Cup, and so still put Ben off, 
“ neither won, and so everybody scrambled for it, 
and it was smashed.” He started to turn away. 

“But see here,” persisted Ben, detaining him, 
“ you and Marshall were n’t on very good terms, 
were you ? ” 

Chester was surprised; he turned and looked 
Ben over as he asked : “ He has n’t said so, has 
he?” 

“ I understood him so,” replied Ben. 

“ Well,” said Chester, as he began to move away, 


164 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ we were n’t exactly intimate, but I hope he has 
nothing against me ; I have nothing against him.” 

But Ben saw that he was very serious, and 
his curiosity increased. There was something 
between the two ; there must be quite a story to 
it. Perhaps he could work some more informa- 
tion out of Marshall by means of what he had 
gained from Chester. He went back to his room, 
restless with the desire to know. 

The March evening closed in. From his lonely 
walk, where every thought was bitter, and where 
homesickness began to oppress him, Marshall was 
called back to the school by the ringing of the bell 
for roll-call. He went with the others to the great 
school-room, answered to his name, and took the 
seat assigned to him. He saw that many boys, 
big and little, looked at him with interest, point- 
ing him out to each other. He was a new boy; 
he had performed an astonishing feat. But Mar- 
shall thought only of Chester Fiske and what he 
might have said. The assignments of classes 
were given out, various notices were read, and 
then the boys were called to supper. His neigh- 
bors at table tried to scrape acquaintance with 
him. He was unresponsive. “ They just want,” 
he thought, “ to see what I ’ll say.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


165 


The evening was to be spent in putting the 
rooms in order. Now not only had Marshall him- 
self acquired celebrity, but, thanks to Ben, his 
baseball equipment as well. Their room during the 
evening was a place for frequent visits ; boys came 
in to see Marshall, and to handle his things. He 
received them without cordiality, almost indiffer- 
ently, and with few words. Some of the boys, 
admiring his mask, his varied gloves, his bats, 
asked leave to use them — sometimes. “You 
may use them whenever you please,” he answered 
listlessly. They thought him a silent fellow, but 
that only served to interest them in him the more. 
He was strong, as they knew ; he was handsome, 
with the look in his face of energy and re- 
pression. Marshall had had so many experiences 
in his life that they had marked his features with 
the evidence of force and self-reliance. Eyes that 
were searching, a line between the brows, and a 
mouth that shut tight, detracted somewhat from 
his good looks, but they added largely to the in- 
terest of his face. Therefore the boys felt the 
wish to know him better. But the very signs of 
his strength made them hesitate to be familiar, 
and checked at the outset the progress of ac- 
quaintance. 


166 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


After a while Marshall was left alone with Ben, 
and Ben began again on his inquiry, backward, 
as caution bade him. “ Marshall,” he said, “I 
was talking with Chester just before supper, and 
he said that at that summer camp— where was it, 
anyway ? ” 

A flush of anger came on Marshall’s face. The 
whole school, presently, would know it all. He 
rose abruptly from his seat. “ Ben,” he said, “ let ’s 
not speak of this again.” 

“ But—” hesitated Ben, in disappointment. 

“ I mean what I say,” stated Marshall, and so 
sternly that Ben was silent. He looked furtively 
at Marshall where he stood by the mantel, and 
the depth of his room-mate’s emotion only pricked 
his curiosity the more. He called patience to his 
aid, and resolved to wait; but some day or other, 
he said to himself, the secret should be his. Mean- 
while in the corridor more footsteps were heard, 
and Marshall’s dying flush revived as he said to 
himself, with irritation: “More visitors?” In 
answer, Chester and Bawson appeared in the door- 
way. 

Marshall’s aspect did not encourage them to 
enter, as he stood without a word. But Ben 
sprang up at once, and cried : “ Come in ! ” This 



CHESTER AND RAWSON APPEARED IN THE DOORWAY.” 




















































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THE JUNIOR CUP 


169 


would be fun for him ; it was just what he wanted. 
Chester and Rawson entered. 

“Well, Marshall,” said Chester, cheerfully, “so 
you ’ve come to Stonefield.” 

“ Yes,” answered Marshall, shortly ; “ I We come.” 

His aspect was discouraging, as he stood with- 
out budging, his hands behind his back, and 
neither offered welcome nor invited them to a 
chair. Chester felt the inhospitality, but went on. 

“ I ’m glad you We come,” he said. “ I came to 
say that if I can help you—” 

“You ’ll be quite willing to?” interrupted 
Marshall. 

There was a sneer in his voice that surprised 
Chester. The difference in Marshall, moreover, 
from what he had been two years before, was 
making itself felt. It was the same face, but 
stronger and less handsome \ the same voice, but 
more abrupt and resolute. There showed an in- 
crease of strength in Marshall’s character, but 
whether for good or ill was not quite plain. The 
question, too, seemed to have a doubtful purpose, 
and Chester answered, puzzled : 

“ Why, yes.” 

“You We been helping me already,” acknow- 
ledged Marshall, briefly ; “I’m much obliged.” 


170 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ Indeed ? ” inquired Chester, blank. 

Suddenly Marshall pointed to the door. “ And 
you can continue to help me all you please,” he 
said, “ on the other side of that sill. I will under- 
take, Chester, to get along without you in the 
school.” 

“ Marshall ! ” cried Chester, astonished. 

“ You, too, Kawson,” added Marshall. 

Chester struggled with anger. Eawson took 
him by the arm. “ Come along, Chester,” he said, 
and led him out of the room. With grim satisfac- 
tion, Marshall watched them go. 


CHAPTER X 


IESTER was correct in his conclu- 
sion that Marshall was no longer 
his former self. The lad was 
changed indeed. Still capable of 
strong resentments, as we have 
seen, he was less self-confident and more humble. 

Had Ben been awake on that first night, he 
could have gathered much from the sounds from 
Marshall's bed. Marshall tossed and could not 
sleep, caught his head in his hands, thought of the 
past, and groaned. The word “ Mother ! ” came 
often from his lips, as if begging forgiveness. 
Then, “ Why did I do it?” and “I was mean to 
you, Chester.” Then, finally : “ I promised mother. 
I ’ll be as patient as I can.” 

Marshall drew a long breath, quieted himself, 
and began to think collectedly. His most recent 
experience was his mother’s illness, when his 
expulsion from his last school, coming at a time 
when she was very weak, plunged her into brain- 
171 



172 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


fever. He still shuddered at the thought that her 
death would have been his fault. Sitting at her 
bedside, he had learned from her delirious speech 
how deeply his escapades had wounded her. One 
sudden cry, “ Marshall, you are killing me ! ” rang 
in his ears for days. Her recovery he regarded as 
a reprieve, a chance given him to reform. He 
came to the school with a deeply-rooted purpose to 
do better. 

Then he thought of Chester, and turned in upon 
himself the light of frankest self-criticism. Again 
he shuddered. He remembered every incident at 
the camp, how first he had had Chester’s friend- 
ship, and then lost it. That loss and Chester’s 
horror at him— the pure-minded boy starting away 
from him— had stung Marshall into a series of acts 
that he never could think upon without the deep- 
est shame. Had ever one boy been so mean to 
another? How natural for Chester to wish re- 
venge ! 

And yet how strange it was to think that Ches- 
ter had made that summer a turning-point in Mar- 
shall’s life ! For of all the boys Marshall ever 
knew, no other had forced from him such unwill- 
ing admiration. Of all his enmities, and he had 
had many, none ever filled his mind with such 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


173 


regrets. He carried away with him from camp the 
memory of Chester. He remembered, in spite of 
himself, the purity of Chester’s standards. Con- 
stantly he found himself criticizing his own actions 
in the light of what Chester would have thought. 
He dreaded to meet the other again ; but when he 
saw him he realized anew how much he had lost 
with his friendship. His anger passed ; the thought 
came to Marshall that this was a punishment, and 
a proper one, for all he had done that was bad. 
“ I deserve it,” he said aloud. “ But oh, if Chester 
only knew that I have never been bad, never really 
bad, since the camp ! Mischievous— yes, and fond 
of scrapes ; but never again like that.” 

But if this were punishment, he told himself, he 
ought to bear it. If he could restrain himself from 
passionate outbursts, could be patient, perhaps he 
could show Chester that he was changed. That 
would be worth while, worth working for. And 
Marshall made his resolve. “ I will hold out,” he 
said, “ so long as any one stands by me.” Then, 
with a last thought of his mother, he turned on 
his side and slept. 

On the following Monday the baseball squad 
assembled in the gymnasium. Big boys and little 
boys, tall and short, thin or square, some thirty in 


174 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


all, put on their clothes for the preliminary train- 
ing. Stukeley was there, and Jeremy Taylor; 
Chester and Rawson, and more whom Marshall 
did not know. He felt that he was a mark for 
many glances. Thin Jeremy came and surveyed 
him openly. “ Well ! ” he said, “ look at that, 
now ! ” 

“ What ? ” asked Marshall. 

Jeremy called Stukeley. “ Look at this fellow’s 
arms and chest,” he said. “No wonder he could 
climb down that spout ! ” 

Stukeley felt of Marshall as of a horse. “No 
wonder,” he agreed. “ I understand it now. You ’re 
in good training, Marshall. But were n’t you a 
little stiff after that ? ” 

“ Oh, no.” Marshall felt pleasure at their admi- 
ration. Other boys, coming closer, nudged and 
spoke among themselves. He heard one sentence : 
“ I tell you, he ’s an athlete.” 

Practice began. The gymnasium instructor 
divided the boys into squads, and at chest-weights, 
dumb-bells, and the running-track they began the 
work of the year. Marshall, inspirited by the feel- 
ing in his favor, joined with the rest with vigor. 
At the end of an hour the work was finished. 
Stukeley called the boys together and took their 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


175 


names. Then he asked the positions they were 
trying for. 

They answered as they chose. 

“Jeremy?” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ Chester ? ” 

“ Anything.” Some of the others called, 
“ Catcher.” 

Stukeley smiled ; he was catcher himself. 
“ Sorry, Chester,” he said. 

Chester laughed. “ Never mind,” he answered. 

“ Rawson ! ” 

“ Short-stop.” And the boys applauded, Rawson 
was infallible. 

“ What,” said Stukeley, presently, “ no pitcher I 
Here ’s Jack Bray. Pitcher, Jack? All right. 
Now I must have a substitute.” 

But no one else said “ Pitcher ” until the last, 
when Marsh alPs name was called. He said 
“Pitcher” boldly. Jack Bray turned and looked 
at him critically, but the rest of the boys mur- 
mured approval. 

“Good,” said Stukeley, decidedly. “You have 
an arm for it. Well, every day at the same hour, 
for the rest of the term.” 

So began Marshall’s school year, in some respects 


176 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


favorably. He possessed two elements of popu- 
larity, evident strength of character, and athletic 
powers. His split with Chester was not really 
known. Yet he thought it was, which caused him 
to keep to himself. And Ben was at hand, still 
ready to stir up trouble. 

Let us be just to Ben, and recognize that his 
mischief-making was comparatively innocent, or, 
at least, that it was thoughtless. But the heedless 
maker of trouble is often more deadly than the 
deliberate, and this Ben should have known. A 
greedy devourer of novels, delighting in the old- 
style stories crammed full of villains, Ben of all 
boys ought to have been familiar with the results 
of prying into private matters. But it often hap- 
pens that the reader does not apply to life the 
principles which may be gleaned from books, and 
Ben regarded the romantic atmosphere of his 
favorite authors as far removed from life at school. 
If Ernesto in the novel brought endless troubles 
upon Rodrigo by not minding his own business, 
that seemed no reason why Ben Farley should not 
have as good a time as he pleased with Marshall 
Moore’s secrets. And Ben should have considered 
that he brought to his pursuit trained faculties 
which other boys did not possess. Sent into the 


THE JUINOR CUP 


177 


world with a genius for acting, he was constantly 
playing little parts all by himself, going around 
with his head in a cloud, enacting mysterious 
dramas. He had so often invited ridicule, in the 
school and out, that he had learned to accommo- 
date himself to circumstances and conceal his pas- 
times from other boys. With such a skill as this, 
he had Marshall, who was quite unused to him, 
completely at his mercy. 

Thus, in the character of the Benevolent Friend, 
he welcomed Marshall on his first return from the 
baseball practice. “ Aha, my boy,” he cried, in lit- 
erary phrase, “ how went the day ? ” He listened 
to Marshall’s account of the work, and nodded his 
head at the conclusion. “ All goes well,” he said 
wisely. “ We shall be able to disregard Chester’s 
latest insinuations.” 

Marshall cried at once: “What! has he been 
saying anything more 7 ” 

And Ben answered, as one who would shield 
another from unpleasantness : “ Oh, nothing to 
speak of.” 

Ben could do this so well that sometimes he 
could deceive those who were well used to him. 
Marshall was new to it. He went silently and got 
out his books. 


178 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


For a while he sat thinking, unable to fix his 
mind upon his work. He saw in daylight the 
difficulty of what had seemed easy in the dark. 
He had felt the pleasure of being with the other 
boys, of sharing their pursuits and working with 
them for the same object. It was harder to be cut 
off: from them than it had seemed that other night ; 
Chester had less justification for revenge. And if 
Chester kept on speaking against him, it would be 
difficult to bear it long. But at present there was 
nothing to do, and, with the sensitiveness of a boy 
who had many times failed, Marshall determined 
to withdraw into himself. It was a hard conclu- 
sion to arrive at ; he was sociable and loved good 
times. But he saw no other thing to do, and at last 
he braced himself firmly, refused to think again 
either of the past or of the future, and resolved to 
work as for his life. While Ben sat reading the 
“Mysteries of Udolpho,” Marshall began on his 
lessons in earnest. 

From that day he followed iiis routine. In so 
doing he was accomplishing more than ever before 
in his life. “He that ruleth his spirit is better 
than he that taketh a city.” For the first time in 
his life Marshall was ruling himself. 

He had never cared for books ; he had never 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


179 


bound himself to regular hours; he had never, 
among boys, submitted to authority. But now he 
studied his lessons — not without groans, but he 
studied them ; now he was punctual at his classes 
and observant of all the school rules; and now 
he was Stukeley’s loyal and obedient servant, sub- 
mitting patiently to the drudgery of training. 

A dozen times he would read his Latin lines, to 
make sure of the sense. After studying his His- 
tory he would shut the book and try to memorize. 
His mathematics were the worst. Often, after 
thirty minutes’ patient work, they were still a mere 
jumble of figures, and in class his failures were 
frequent. Ben could never help him in his study- 
ing ; rather, he interrupted frequently. “ See 
here,” Ben would suddenly break in. “ Listen ! 
here ’s a duel between Hortensio and Bellarmine.” 
“ No, no ! ” Marshall would cry. His duel was with 
his mathematics. At last, in despair one day, he 
remembered Jeremy, and carried the book to his 
room. “ I say,” he said pathetically, at the door, 
“ I can’t make head or tail of this.” Then matters 
were made clear. J eremy knew how to straighten 
the worst tangle of a boy’s brain. After that 
Marshall went to him frequently, and when he did 
not come often enough Jeremy sought him out. 


n 


180 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


It was hard for Marshall. To fix his attention, 
day after day, upon things he had always despised, 
was a severe test of his purpose. Even to follow 
the slow and mechanical evolutions of the base- 
ball squad required self-control. To swing dumb- 
bells when he might be flying on the rings, to 
pull at chest-weights when he saw the punching- 
bag idle, made him at times so restless that he 
could scarcely restrain himself. The things he 
was doing were stupid. It was not till later, when 
he saw their results, that he recognized their 
value. The things that he wished to do were fun, 
and he did not know that they tended to give him 
uneven development. But he stuck to his tasks, 
whether lessons or drill. His reward came when 
finally he worked himself into some enjoyment 
of his gymnasium work, and when his mother, 
receiving the report of his studies for the first 
month, wrote to praise him. 

One thing surprised him— that Chester was 
steadily kind. For when Rawson, himself angry 
enough, brought away from Marshall’s room Chester 
boiling with rage, the two had the wisdom to shut 
themselves in their own study and wait till their 
feelings cooled. Rawson was the first to say: 
“We promised his mother,” and Chester, after a 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


181 


full minute’s pause : “ Then we ’ll keep the prom- 
ise ! ” Not understanding Marshall’s reason for 
his action, they supposed it was because he still 
laid up against them the losing of the Cup. “ Yet 
we ’ll never say or do a single thing against him,” 
they declared solemnly — no easy resolve after such 
an insult. But Bawson remarked : “ It ’s going to 
be mighty hard to help him if he acts like this.” 

Therefore, according to agreement, and with 
Mrs. Moore in their minds, they spoke to him 
always pleasantly, and did no more than to avoid 
provoking another outburst against them, which, if 
it were public, they knew would injure him. For 
their position was secure in the school, Marshall’s 
was yet to be won, and anything he said against 
them would be to his own hurt. 

Mr. Holmes questioned Chester one day. “ Mar- 
shall, I see, does not let you be very intimate with 
him,” he remarked. “ Does he still have a preju- 
dice against you ? ” 

Chester wondered at the master’s keenness in 
noticing so small a matter among so many boys. 
“Yes, sir,” he answered regretfully; “I am afraid 
he does. But Rawson and I are doing our best, 
sir.’? 

Mr. Holmes knew of Marshall’s work in class 


182 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


and training, and was satisfied. “Well,” lie said, 
“keep on trying. The signs are good. Remem- 
ber, Chester, it is a fight worth winning.” 

Chester went and reported the words to Raw- 
son, to the great encouragement of them both. 

To tell the plain truth, however, Mr. Holmes 
was somewhat puzzled. He saw Marshall, not 
upon the easy path which had been prepared for 
him, but walking a hard and thorny one alone. 
Somewhere something had gone wrong, but he 
knew it would be useless to inquire, so plainly 
was Chester in the dark, and so stubbornly would 
Marshall declare, if questioned, that everything 
was righto Long ago had he encountered Mar- 
shall’s reticence, which made it hard to reach him. 
Mr. Holmes made up his mind, therefore, merely 
to watch, thankful, to judge from the growing 
signs of purpose on Marshall’s face, that the dis- 
cipline was improving him. “ Events are taking 
their own course,” he thought, “but perhaps in 
the end their way will prove better than mine.” 

Marshall, in the meanwhile, had one little con- 
troversy with his room-mate. One day Ben, with 
great secrecy, showed Marshall a package of cig- 
arettes. “ If you take a stroll with me this even- 
ing after dark,” he said, “ we can have a smoke.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


183 


Marshall regarded him steadily. “ See here, 
Ben,” he said. “I ’ve smoked a hundred times. 
I ’ve broken the rule against smoking in half a 
dozen schools. Every time I ’ve got caught and 
punished. It does n’t pay, Ben.” 

Ben was crestfallen. “ But it ’s such fun,” he 
said. 

Marshall had a new feeling, and new thoughts. 
“I don’t think it ’s fun, Ben,” he said slowly. 
“ It ’s against the rule in every school I ever heard 
of; therefore it looks as if the rule were good. 
And let me tell you this. In other schools I did 
it sometimes to spite the masters ; but here, where 
Mr. Holmes trusts us and the masters are n’t 
spying every minute, I don’t see the fun in deceiv- 
ing them. We ’re upon honor ; we hurt our own 
selves if we prove we can’t be trusted. Put away 
the cigarettes.” 

Ben put them away on that occasion, but he 
used them later. Marshall smelled tobacco in his 
clothes one day. “You ’ve been smoking, Ben,” 
he said. 

“ Well, if I have!” demanded Ben. 

“You won’t learn by my experience!” asked 
Marshall. “Well, go ahead and learn by your 
own.” It would have been well for Marshall if 


184 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Ben’s manner of learning had not involved his 
room-mate in trouble. 

Time passed along. The baseball squad was 
sifted down to eighteen members. Then Stukeley 
called them together one day after gymnasium, 
and announced that on the morrow the training- 
table would begin. He stated the rules briefly: 
“ After this it ’s to be understood that we ’re on 
strict training. We ’re to eat only what they give 
us at the table. No soda nor tonics are to be bought 
at the store. Of course, no beer nor spirits, and 
no smoking. And though nothing of the sort will 
happen, any boy breaking the rules will be sent 
away from the table, and will lose his chance of 
the nine.” 

The next day the training-table was set in the 
dining-room. The picked boys sat at it and were 
served with special food. Marshall, as he took 
his place with the rest, felt happy. A few days 
afterward, the ground being clear of snow, out- 
door practice began. Then it began to be seen for 
what positions Stukeley destined the boys. 

He himself was catcher. The bases went to 
First Class boys. Jeremy was to play in the field. 
Of members of the Second Class, Rawson was 
short-stop, Chester was left-field. Right-field was 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


185 


not yet settled. But as for pitcher, Stukeley put 
Marshall there in the first practice game, saying : 
“We ’ll try you.” Jack Bray pitched on the 
second nine, but Marshall had no fear of him. 

He had never been beaten in any competition— 
never except once. Whenever he thought of that 
time his ears tingled; whenever he saw Chester 
Fiske he thought of it. But Chester, in that great 
race so long ago, had not beaten Marshall— not 
Chester alone. Marshall’s conscience had beaten 
him. On sudden temptation he had done an un- 
worthy thing; his heart had failed him at the 
thought of it ; he had left the field almost fainting. 
But now, in a fair struggle, he meant to win. And 
he pitched so well, studied his art so earnestly, 
trained so steadily, that the hope of .Stonefield 
centered on him for the great game against the 
Woodstock School. For, of all the positions, that 
of pitcher is perhaps the most important. 

So more days passed, and life grew brighter, 
happier, and easier for Marshall. But one even- 
ing, when he went to his room, Ben greeted him 
with a piece of news that took him off his feet : 
“Stukeley is going away ! ” 

“Going away?” repeated Marshall, in astonish- 
ment. 


186 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ Yes,” answered Ben, satisfied with the effect he 
had produced, but leading up to the more startling 
item that was to follow. “His father has lost 
money, and has sent for him to come home. But 
what do you think Stukeley means to do 1 ” 

Marshall had no idea. 

“ He means,” said Ben, impressively, “ to make 
Chester Fiske captain in his place ! ” 

“ How do you know ? ” demanded Marshall, with 
a sudden sinking of the heart. 

“ Oh, I heard,” answered Ben, wisely. “ I heard.” 
He did not say he overheard. “It ’s not an- 
nounced yet, but it ’s true. And now, Marshall, 
how about your pitching on the nine 1 Chester ’s 
very chummy, you know, with Jack Bray.” 

“I know,” responded Marshall. He began to 
realize how much his ambition was bound up in 
the nine. 

“Well,” sighed Ben, “it ’s hard to overcome an 
enmity, is n’t it ? But cheer up ; perhaps it is n’t 
so bad as we fear.” 

On the morrow Stukeley called the team toge- 
ther, and announced that he was summoned home. 
“ I sha’n’t come back,” he said, trying to conceal his 
feeling. “You must elect another captain in my 
place. And I wish to give you my advice, which is 
to elect Chester Fiske. He—” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


187 


“ Hold on ! ” cried Chester, starting np. 

“ Hut him out ! ” ordered Jeremy. Jack Bray 
dragged Chester back to his seat. “Shut up, 
Chester,” said they all. 

“ But J eremy should be captain,” argued Chester. 

“Thank you,” retorted Jeremy; “as if I had n’t 
enough work to do ! ” Jeremy edited the school 
paper. 

“ But I—” A hand was put on Chester’s mouth, 
and Stukeley proceeded : 

“ Chester knows my ideas and my system. It is 
a little unusual to have a Second Class boy captain. 
But Chester is the best player, has a good head, 
and I think should have the place.” 

Chester struggled free. “ But I say—” They cut 
him short. “Stop your noise, Chester. We ’re 
going to vote.” With good-natured chaff, ballots 
were prepared and handed round. Marshall, re- 
signed, wrote Chester’s name on his. Stukeley 
collected the ballots, read them, and declared 
Chester captain. 

“ Now we shall see ! ” said Ben, with many shak- 
ings of the head. “ But I greatly fear, Marshall 
my boy, that things will now go wrong.” 

On the following day Stukeley went away, and 
Chester entered upon his duties. When on that 
very afternoon Marshall found himself playing 


188 


THE JUNIOE CUP 


second-base on the second nine, with Jack Bray 
pitching on the first, Ben’s prophecy seemed true. 
“ There,” said Ben to him after practice, “ I told 
you so ! ” 

Marshall had but one resource. He said 
nothing. 


CHAPTER XI 


F yon don’t beat Woodstock this 
year,” Stukeley had said to the team, 
when he left, “ don’t let me ever see 
one of you again. Three years run- 
ning they ’ve beaten us now. I 
meant to give them one good drubbing before I 
graduated. You must do it for me.” 

The responsibility was therefore on Chester’s 
shoulders to win the great game of the year. Cap- 
tain while still in the Second Class! It was an 
unusual honor, and an unusual weight of work. 
Mr. Holmes was glad to see that the lad took his 
responsibility seriously— so seriously, however, 
that he left unexplained his reason for fulfilling 
Ben’s prediction. 

“ I would shake the teams up for a few days,” 
had been Stukeley’s parting advice to the new 
captain. “ Change the positions about. The boys 
will get stale, especially Marshall. He ’s been 
using his arm too much. Don’t let him pitch 

189 



190 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


again till next week.” Chester, busy with many 
things, neglected to inform Marshall of the reason 
of the change. This was the real beginning of 
Marshall’s troubles. 

They followed closely on. In the first game 
with an outside team, one from a city school, Mar- 
shall pitched, indeed, but not to his satisfaction. 
The game was lost; he had been batted heavily. 
Chester laughed when it was over. “ Don’t you 
care, Marshall. They were too much for us any- 
way. It was n’t your fault. They were all older 
than we.” But Marshall saw that Chester was 
really disappointed in losing his first game. He 
had caught faultlessly, but Marshall could not for- 
get his own two wild pitches. He dreamed of 
them that night, and awoke in anguish as he 
imagined a steady stream of runners, passing 
from third to home. 

Something more real came next day. As Mar- 
shall was going to the store for shoe-lacings, Ben, 
from his customary position on the window-seat, 
asked him a favor. “Buy me some cigarettes,” 
he said. 

“ Look here, Ben,” said Marshall, “ do you ex- 
pect me to buy your tobacco for you, when I don’t 
approve of your smoking?” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


191 


“You need n’t be so smart,” answered Ben. 
“ Mr. Hunnewell asked me to get some for him to 
use this evening.” 

Now Mr. Hunnewell was the English teacher, 
and a special protector of Ben’s. Ben amused and 
interested him ; he took pains to defend him before 
the other masters. “ The boy is clever,” he de- 
clared. “ He ’s got quite a literary turn. Who 
knows but his artistic story-telling may make him 
a great author some day ! ” 

Mr. Holmes, laughing, quoted the old rhyme : 

“‘For there may be some great men before us,’ 

Quoth worthy old Master Treborius.” 

But Mr. Hunnewell continued to defend Ben, 
maintaining that even his curiosity might prove 
to be the instinct for observation which is planted 
in many writers. His friendship for Ben was 
known to the school, as was also known his fond- 
ness for tobacco. It did not seem so very unnat- 
ural, therefore, that he should have made such a 
request of Ben. Marshall, not realizing that a 
master would never have made such a request of 
a boy, and overlooking one other smaller matter, 
was satisfied. “ All right,” he said, and went away 
on his two errands. 


192 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Now the store was a place of many nooks and 
corners, and a boy who went there for forbidden 
things was wise to make sure who was there be- 
fore he stated his wishes. When Marshall boldly 
asked for the cigarettes, the storekeeper indicated 
caution, spoke in a low tone, and gave him his 
package hastily. Marshall, who saw no one, and 
would not have done differently if he had, smiled 
and left the shop. But he had not gone half- 
way on his return when he heard his name called, 
and turning, was confronted by Chester and 
Rawson. 

Both had been hurrying, were short of breath 
and pale. Marshall saw that their changed ap- 
pearance was from excitement as well as exertion. 
He thought of the cigarettes in his pocket, and 
grew pale himself. “ Well?” he demanded. 

Rawson left the matter to Chester. Chester 
hesitated before he spoke; but he said finally: 
“We were in the store when you bought the cigar- 
ettes. We could n’t help hearing.” 

Marshall was still sore from his recent failure to 
win the game. “Well?” he asked again. 

“ I think,” said Chester, mildly, “ that you ’d 
do better to give those cigarettes to me.” 

Marshall drew them from his pocket and handed 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


193 


them to Chester. “ What will you do with them ? ” 
he asked. 

There was in his voice a challenge to destroy 
them. Chester was no boy to fail in his duty. 
Just beyond the road ran a brook, and he tossed 
the package in. “ They are best there,” he said, 
and waited for what Marshall would say. 

Marshall still eyed him quietly. “ What did you 
do that for?” he inquired. 

“Oh, Marshall,” said Chester, reproachfully, 
“ when you are a member of the nine ! ” 

Marshall’s anger began to burn. “ I know too 
much,” he said, “ to suppose that I ’ll ever be a 
member of the nine.” 

“What do you mean?” demanded Chester, 
quickly. 

“ Oh, Marshall ! ” cried Rawson. “ Shame ! ” 

“And besides,” went on Marshall, unyielding, 
“ those cigarettes were not for me, but for some- 
body else.” 

The others were taken aback. They looked at 
each other. “But if you were bringing tobacco 
into the school—” began Chester. 

“ You had no business to interfere, if I was.” 

“For another boy,” Chester went on weakly. 
He saw that he had done wrong. 


194 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ It was not for another boy,” cried Marshall. 
“ Now what will you say ! It was for a master.” 

They stared at him, unbelieving, all their sus- 
picions again aroused. He saw, and flushed. 
“ It was for Mr. Hunnewell,” he said. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Rawson. “ Oh, Mr. Hunnewell 
never smokes cigarettes. Why, he ’s said to the 
boys, ‘ Smoke a pipe if you must smoke, but never 
cigarettes ’ ! ” 

Marshall knew that it was true. He had heard 
the words himself. This was the smaller matter 
which he had forgotten. His mouth opened, 
but he could utter no sound. Dismay came 
into his face. Quickly he turned and left them. 
He knew that they stood still in the same place, 
and he felt that they believed him a liar. 

“Well,” said Rawson, presently, in a low voice, 
“ how can we help him if he acts so ? ” 

“ Wait,” answered Chester. “ Sit down here.” 
They sat on the wall by the brook, watching Mar- 
shall’s hurrying figure. “Rawson,” Chester said 
again presently, “there is something queer in this—” 

“ Decidedly queer,” interrupted Rawson. 

“Let me finish. I am inclined to think that 
Marshall believed those cigarettes were for Mr. 
Hunnewell.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


195 


“ Oh, come now ! ” Rawson looked at Chester, 
who, still watching Marshall, was thoughtfully 
tapping the ground with his foot. Such charity 
was astonishing. “ You don’t mean it.” 

“ I do,” answered his chum. “ When he said the 
tobacco was for a master, he meant it. And I 
was frightened then, I can tell you, at interfering 
where I had no business.” 

“ Yes,” admitted Rawson, doubtfully. 

“So I think we ’d better forget this matter. 
And as soon as I see Marshall I shall beg his 
pardon.” 

But Marshall, almost desperate, went straight 
to Ben. “Ben!” he cried,— and his room-mate 
was startled at his face,— “did you really want 
those cigarettes for Mr. Hunnewell ? ” 

Ben was frightened enough to tell the truth. 
“ No,” he stammered. 

“ For yourself, then ? ” 

“ Why— yes.” 

“ Then,” — and Marshall sat down and dropped 
his face in his hands,— “you have got me into 
trouble ! ” 

“ Why, I did n’t expect you would believe me. 
I winked.” Ben almost wailed. He asked what 
was the matter. Marshall would say nothing. 


12 


196 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ Oh, oh ! ” cried Ben, and in tragic despair he 
wrung his hands. 

Marshall waited in silence. He expected Chester 
to come soon and say: “You are dropped from 
the training-table.” He could not shield himself 
by naming Ben. One can no more tell on a boy 
to another than to a master. Sure enough, there 
was a knock at the door, and Chester entered. 

Marshall shivered, and stood up. Chester hesi- 
tated on seeing Ben. Marshall spoke: “Well, 
I ’ll go.” 

“Where?” asked Chester. Ben listened open- 
mouthed. 

“ Back to the Second Class table.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” and Chester smiled. “ I came to 
say I ’m sorry I was so hasty, and to pay you for 
the cigarettes.” 

“ What ! ” cried Marshall. 

“You will excuse me, won’t you, Marshall? 
And here is the money.” Chester laid it upon the 
table. He wished to say more. This was his op- 
portunity to explain everything, to become friends. 
Both boys were deeply moved. It was the oppor- 
tunity— if gaping Ben had not been there. Chester 
said nothing but “ Good day,” and went away. 

“Well, upon my soul!” cried Ben, as soon as 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


197 


the door had closed. “What has he to do, I ’d 
like to know, with yon, or my cigarettes? He 
took them, did he ? ” Ben was injured. “ He ’d 
better ask pardon. Why did n’t he give them 
back ? What did you give them up for ? ” 

“I can’t tell you,” answered Marshall. Ben 
teased and begged, but got no answer, till he was 
wild with curiosity. Then he grew cross. 

“Well,” he said sulkily, “you are easy on 
Chester, but I ’ll tell you what, he is n’t easy on 
you. You don’t tell things, but he does ! ” 

“ Does he still tell things about me ? ” faltered 
Marshall. 

“ Of course he does.” Ben had diverted atten- 
tion from his own offense so successfully that he 
had forgotten it himself. He brought out a dam- 
aging piece of evidence. “About that Cup that 
you competed for.” 

Marshall winced. “What does he say?” he 
asked. 

“You don’t suppose”— and Ben’s tone was now 
one of patient suffering— “that the boys tell me 
what is said? No, Marshall; they know I would 
not stand it, and so tell me nothing. But they ’re 
whispering all the time— I don’t know what.” Ben 
finished with an impression vaguely dreadful. 


198 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


He started to leave the room, but turned back, 
trying once more to make Marshall tell his secret. 
“If you would only speak up for yourself, why, we 
could do a lot for you. Plenty of fellows like you” 

u I ’ve nothing to say,” answered Marshall, in 
dejection. 

Ben patted him kindly on the shoulder. “Well, 
I ’m sorry,” he said. “ If you won’t help yourself, 
we can’t do anything for you, can we t ” He left 
the room, having shifted all blame from him- 
self, leaving Marshall in pain. “ Oh,” cried Mar- 
shall, when he was alone, “ you can’t escape, you 
can’t escape from the things you ’ve done ! Will 
everything I ’ve done follow me always ? ” 

But his persecutions ceased again for a time. 
If this were not a story of his mishaps, the jokes 
of the school, the jollifications, and Marshall’s real 
good times might be told. He forgot himself fre- 
quently and made merry; he no longer had the 
feeling that the masters, as in his other schools, 
were “ down on him.” About as strange to him as 
anything was his progress in his studies. Two 
things he noticed: one, that he liked to study 
more ; the other, that the work seemed easier. It 
was true that he took refuge in his books when his 
troubles pressed upon him. But aside from that, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


199 


Marshall was discovering for himself what other 
boys have learned before — that doing duty begets 
the love for duty, and the more we work, the more 
we like it. 

“If there were no tasks in the world!” groaned 
Ben one night. 

“ Ah, but there are ! ” said J eremy, smiling. 

Yet everything was not over for Marshall. He 
worked faithfully and received good marks. He 
learned, finally, from Chester’s frequent admoni- 
tions not to use his arm too much, and from the fact 
that he was called upon to pitch in every match 
game, the reason why he was occasionally sent to 
the second nine, and he began to feel sure that the 
position of pitcher was his. Yet luck was still 
against him. So one might say, and yet, as once 
with Chester long before, it was a direct con- 
sequence of trusting too much to his com}, anion 
Ben. Former events were revenging themselves, 
teaching to Marshall Chester’s own hard lesson. 

But Ben, aside from all the trouble he was mak- 
ing for Marshall, gave him good times of another 
sort, and actually won his affection. Ben was, 
in truth, a delightful fellow. He could play on the 
harmonica, could sing to the banjo — and songs, as 
well, of his own making. Boys often came to the 


200 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


room to “ get Ben going,” when jokes, comic songs, 
or absurdly extravagant stories would keep the 
room in laughter. Ben was a generous boy, too. 
Mr. Hunnewell was proud of him; the masters 
joked with him; and Jeremy demanded once a 
month a contribution to the school paper, which 
was considered by the school incomplete if not 
graced by something signed “ B. F.” Ben’s par- 
ticular weaknesses, therefore, of curiosity, pretense, 
and “ manliness,” were easy to be overlooked in 
the good companion. Yet the last of these faults 
was the next thing that brought Marshall into 
trouble. 

Ben waited for his room-mate one day after base- 
ball practice. “ Come on,” he said ; “ let ’s take a 
walk. Let ’s go down to the village.” So Marshall 
and he went off together. 

They passed through the village, and came to a 
path that led down into the valley of a little 
stream. Ben was about to enter upon it, but 
Marshall stopped. “Is n’t this out of bounds?” 
he asked. “We ’ll be punished if we ’re caught.” 

“ Oh, no,” answered Ben. “ Come on. See 
how lovely it is down here.” It did look lovely 
below among the trees, and they went on. The 
path followed the stream, and the arching trees 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


201 


that overhung, the sunbeams that streamed 
through the fresh foliage of the spring, were 
wonderful to Marshall’s eyes. He lingered, but 
Ben urged him forward. “Oh, come on,” said 
Ben. “I ’ll show you something. There, see 
that?” 

Before them, in a dell among mosses, stood a 
little mill, so old and weather-beaten that it seemed 
like a growth of the place. Water was rushing 
down a sluice, a great green wheel was turning, 
and the sound, the color, and the shadowed place, 
all were beautiful. “ Come on,” said Ben, and 
dragged Marshall to the door. 

They entered the mill, open like a barn, and 
Marshall took his stand above the mill-race to 
watch the rushing water. A man came to answer 
Ben’s call, and stood surveying the two boys. 

Ben said something to him quietly. 

“You don’t want,” said the man, “the stuff I 
keep. Mere boys like you ! ” 

“ Indeed ! ” answered Ben. “ That ’s my busi- 
ness, if you please. A glass at once, and here ’s a 
quarter for it.” 

The man grumbled. “ I don’t know if I ’m jus- 
tified in selling it to you.” But he took the money 
and went away, presently returning with a glass 


202 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


of amber-colored liquid in his hand. “Here,” he 
said, “ if you think you can venture to drink it.” 

Ben received it haughtily. “ That ’s all right,” 
he said, and the man went away. 

Marshall turned. “ Ben,” he asked, sniffing, 
“ what ’s that ? ” 

“ That ! ” responded Ben. “ Oh, that ’s apple- 
jack.” 

Marshall reached and took the glass. The smell 
of it was unmistakable. “ That is whisky ! ” he 
declared. 

Ben admitted it. “ The man is a miller,” he 
said. “ He makes whisky of the corn. I want to 
see what it ’s like.” (Curiosity again !) “I heard 
some one say it was the finest—oh, Marshall, 
don’t ! ” 

Marshall was holding the glass over the sluice 3 
“ This is the best place for it,” he said. 

“ Give it back ! ” cried Ben, angrily. “I ’ve 
paid for it.” 

Marshall unwillingly held his hand. 

“ Have some yourself,” tempted Ben. 

“ And I on the nine 1 ” retorted Marshall. “ But 
Ben, you must n’t drink this full strength ; it will 
be too much for you. Pour out some, and fill up 
with water.” 



* 



THE JUNIOR CUP 


205 


“Well,” agreed Ben, “pour out some. I ’ll 
fetch a dipper for the water.” 

He went away, and Marshall poured a generous 
portion of the whisky into the sluice. Then, as 
he stood waiting for Ben, he lifted the glass to 
his face, and drew in the odor. He did not know 
that at that moment both fate and the warder-off 
of fate were coming toward him. 

That afternoon it had happened that the two 
cronies, Chester and Bawson, had climbed to the 
top of the hill that stood within the school grounds. 
Upon its summit stood a summer-house whence 
one could see the view, but no school-boy had in 
years been content with that. The proper thing 
was to climb to its roof, and there Chester and his 
friend sat, holding to the flagpole, and rejoicing 
in the fact that they could see everything that 
went on within a mile. Near the school buildings 
the other boys looked small ; farther away, in the 
village, the people were like dolls. The two 
watched Ben and Marshall as they wandered along 
the street. Then they saw them hesitate at the 
opening of the path. “ That ’s out of bounds,” said 
Bawson. 

But boys, when mischievous, sometimes inten- 
tionally strayed; the two on the summer-house 


206 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


were not shocked as the two in the valley disap- 
peared in the path. They turned their eyes again 
to the village street, watching the idlers there, and 
thought no more of the others until they saw Mr. 
Holmes, with a quick step, go through the village 
and in his turn disappear in the path. Then they 
stared at each other. The path had but one end- 
ing ; Marshall and Ben would be caught ! 

“ Can’t we warn them ! ” cried Rawson. 

“ I can try,” answered Chester, promptly. He 
thought only of Marshall as he slipped to the 
ground and dashed down the hill. Rawson stayed ; 
he could not keep up with Chester. 

The way was all downhill; Chester had never 
run so fast in his life. He took the shortest way, 
across the fields ; the pasture grass was firm to his 
feet, and he met no obstacles until he plunged into 
the wood at a point beyond the opening of the 
path. There, slipping, sliding, leaping, he made 
as straight as possible for the mill. He had but 
the thought to warn Marshall and save him the 
loss of a fortnight’s recess. When he saw the mill 
before him he paused and looked back along the 
path. At a distance was Mr. Holmes, now linger- 
ing, like Marshall, above the brook. Chester took 
advantage of a thicket and dodged into the mill. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


207 


There before him was Marshall— but doing 
what? Chester saw the liquid in the glass, and 
remembered what he had recently heard of the 
making of whisky at the mill. The odor in the 
air was unmistakable. And Marshall, when he saw 
Chester, started and put down the glass. 

Chester’s face was strained, but as in duty bound 
he gave his warning : “ Marshall, Mr. Holmes is 
coming. Eun ! ” 

They heard the sound of running feet. Ben had 
seen Mr. Holmes and fled. Marshall did not under- 
stand. “ Why — ” he began. 

“ This is out of bounds,” said Chester, impa- 
tiently. “I saw you from the summer-house. 
Marshall, go ! ” 

Surprised though Marshall was, he took the 
advice, and Chester followed him. Their darting 
figures left one door before Mr. Holmes entered 
at the other. Mr. Holmes came to arrange, and 
did arrange, a bargain by which the man agreed, 
for an annual payment, to sell no whisky to any 
member of the school. The man said nothing of 
the boys, and the fugitives got away safely. 
Chester sped up the hill; Marshall joined breath- 
less Ben in the wood, and in haste they went 
back to the village. There Marshall turned to 


208 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Ben reproachfully. “That was out of bounds, 
after all” 

“Well,” admitted Ben, “so it was. But how 
could I tell that Mr. Holmes was coming there 
just then ? ” 

“And you did n’t warn me when you saw 
him ! ” added Marshall. 

“ There was n’t time,” answered Ben. “ If he 
did n’t see you, what do you care 1 ” 

Marshall said no more. He was disappointed in 
Ben. Had it not been for Chester he would have 
been in a fix ; but, thanks to him, he had got off 
well. 

So he thought; but, climbing wearily, Chester 
went back to Bawson on the hillside. “Were 
you in time ? ” asked Bawson, eagerly. 

“Just.” 

“ Then you ’ve done something for him, at any 
rate,” said Bawson, with pleasure. 

But Chester wished he had not gone. He sup- 
posed he had found Marshall drinking whisky, the 
most serious fault that a member of the nine 
could commit, for which he should be dropped 
from the team. Chester was captain. What was 
he to do f 


CHAPTER XII 


HAT evening, after supper, Marshall 
sought Chester and found him walk- 
ing by himself. “ Chester,” he said, 
“ I want to thank you for what you 
did this afternoon.” 

It was Chester’s turn to receive the approach 
with coldness. He had been struggling with him- 
self, remembering his promise to Mrs. Moore. 
Was Marshall now not going to admit his breach 
of the rules ! “ Is that all ? ” Chester asked. 

“ What else should I say ? ” inquired Marshall, in 
surprise. 

“I found you drinking whisky,” answered 
Chester. 

“ No ! ” cried the other. He turned white as he 
saw the situation. For the second time he found 
himself where he could not clear his name except 
by accusing Ben. 

“ Had n’t you been drinking?” asked Chester. 

“ No ; and I was n’t going to.” 

209 



210 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ Very well.” Chester felt disappointment deeper 
still. The fault was bad ; the denial worse. 

“ You don’t believe me ? ” asked Marshall. 

“ If you say so, I am bound to believe you.” 

A group of boys came to interrupt. Marshall 
went to his room, almost sick. Chester, as he 
went with the others, felt no better. 

Marshall saw that he was in a hopeless tangle. 
When next he took his place at the training-table, 
where Chester sat at the head, he believed that the 
other thought he had no right there. He could 
not see how Chester could think anything else. 
When he went out to practise, the question came 
to him: “How many of the others has Chester 
told?” Eawson, of course. Marshall was afraid 
to go near him. In his room, his trouble came 
between him and his books, and he could not 
drive it away. Days long this lasted ; this was no 
matter that would wear off in time. He brooded 
over it, kept to himself, exercised less, ate less, and 
studied harder. To this there could be but one 
result. He fell off in his practice, his pitching be- 
came poorer, and by his mistakes the school lost 
the next game that was played. 

Chester watched Marshall ;* he had his own nat- 
ural explanation of what was going on in the 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


211 


other’s mind. What could trouble him but a bad 
conscience? One thing, however, he did, which 
Marshall never expected : namely, he kept to him- 
self the occurrence at the mill. The hints which 
Marshall supposed his comrades dropped of it 
were accidental ; the meaning glances he believed 
he intercepted were harmless. Yet they were as 
hard, for him, as if Chester had not refrained from 
telling his thoughts even to Rawson. 

As captain and catcher, however, Chester could 
not ignore Marshall’s falling-off. He knew with 
how much less force his balls were thrown, with 
how much less accuracy they were directed. And 
perceiving that Marshall was actually growing 
thinner with his brooding, he knew that he would 
best prepare Jack Bray for the place, in case Mar- 
shall should give out altogether. 

This at least was seen by the boys, and discussed 
freely. Finally Jeremy came to Marshall. “ Look 
here,” he said. “ This does n’t go. You ’ll lose 
your place on the nine. Do you know that Ches- 
ter is coaching up Jack Bray?” 

“ I know,” said Marshall, gloomily. “Let Jack 
have the place.” 

“ Why ! ” cried Jeremy, “ the whole school is de- 
pending on you to win the game with Woodstock. 


212 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Jack can never do it. Nor you, either, at your 
present rate. See here ; are n’t you stale ? Why 
don’t you lay off for a day or two ? ” 

Marshall had n’t the slightest intention to lay 
off for a day or two. 

Jeremy was puzzled. “You have n’t had bad 
news from home, have you ? ” 

“ No bad news at all.” 

“ Well,” said Jeremy, as he went, “ you ’re stale, 
then, that ’s all. You must take care of yourself. 
We simply must n’t lose that game. Do you 
realize that it comes in four days ? ” 

As if matters had to be worse before they could 
be better, now entered Ben more deeply into 
the piece. With patience which he would never 
apply to his studies, Ben still kept, like an Indian, 
on the trail of Marshall’s secret. Marshall one 
day innocently encouraged him to fresh endeavors. 
“Chester,” he said, opening the subject voluntarily, 
“ is n’t so hard on me as he might be.” Thinking 
how much Chester might have done against him, 
he meant what he said. 

Ben saw his chance. “ Indeed ! ” he remarked. 
“ Even though he has told the school all about the 
Cup?” 

Marshall answered: “Yes; even then.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


213 


“ But what,” asked Ben, slyly, “ if I should say 
that he has told Mr. Holmes ? ” 

“ Mr. Holmes,” replied Marshall, calmly, “ saw it 
all as it happened.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Ben, blankly. 

“ Look here,” cried Marshall, with a sudden sus- 
picion ; “ none of the boys have ever spoken to me 
of this but you. Have you been making it all up, 
Ben ? ” 

Ben, flurried by the attack, sparred for time. 
“ I ? ” he inquired, needing no art to appear aston- 
ished. “ I ? ” 

“ Yes, you,” insisted Marshall. 

“ Let me ask you this,” returned Ben, with the 
simplest and usually the neatest way of turning a 
subject. u Don’t you suppose Chester has been tell- 
ing Mr. Holmes other things besides ? About the 
cigarettes ? ” 

“ No ! ” exclaimed Marshall. “ He would n’t be so 
mean.” 

“ Well,” answered Ben, “ some day I ’ll prove it 
to you.” And glad to effect his escape, he marched 
out of the room. He went to the reading-room, 
and fell into talk with Mr. Hunnewell, his indul- 
gent teacher. While they sat together a boy came 
with a handful of notices, and handed Mr. Hunne- 


13 


214 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


well one. “ From Mr. Holmes,” he said, and went 
away. 

Mr. Hnnnewell, after reading the note, held 
it so that Ben could almost read the words. 
“ Would n’t you like to see? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, let me ! ” begged Ben. Something new was 
better to Ben than a week’s allowance. 

“ It ’s only a notice,” said Mr. Hunnewell, unwill- 
ing to tease Ben long, “to call a meeting of the 
masters for to-morrow morning. It ’s customary 
before the game.” 

“ Why ? ” asked Ben. 

“We give our consent for the members of our 
classes to play on the nine. It ’s usually merely 
formal, but no idle boy can have the privilege.” 

“ But I see Marshall’s name there. ‘ Especially 
Marshall Moore,’ it says. Why is that ? ” 

“ That,” explained Mr. Hunnewell, regretting that 
Ben had managed to see, “ is because Marshall has 
seemed so tired lately. It ’s his physical condition 
in this case. You don’t realize, Ben, how closely 
Mr. Holmes watches the boys. Well, I must go.” 

“ But it says next,” persisted Ben, “ ‘ A case for 
expulsion.’ What ’s that ? ” 

“ That ’s in the lower class,” replied Mr. Hunne- 
well. “ Good-by.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


215 


He rose and went away. Ben presently wan- 
dered into the corridor. He had not gone far when 
he saw, lying on the floor, a’ paper which he recog- 
nized as one of the notices which were being dis- 
tributed to the masters. He picked it up, read it 
again, began to smile, and then started for his 
room. With this he could tease Marshall. He 
found his room-mate studying, and handed him 
the paper. “ There ! ” he said. “ If you don’t be- 
lieve that Chester tells about you, read that. Why 
else should you be expelled ? ” 

“ Expelled ? ” cried Marshall. 

“ Read that ! ” repeated Ben. Marshall read : 

Meeting of masters to-morrow morning at 8.30, to grant 
permission to members of nine to play in the match game. Es- 
pecially Marshall Moore. A case for expulsion. Various minor 
matters. 

J. R. Holmes. 

“ If Chester has n’t told about the cigarettes and 
the whisky,” asked Ben, “ why should they want to 
expel you?” He saw that Marshall had grown 
pale, and knew that he accepted the idea that the 
expulsion was aimed at him. 

The blow at Marshall’s composure was hard and 
shrewd. A friend had suddenly fallen away from 
him : Mr. Holmes had given him up. But no one 


216 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


could have read in Marshall’s face a sign of the pain 
he felt. His features became firmer, that was all, 
as he reminded himself of his resolution to stay in 
the school so long as he had a friend there. He 
looked up from his study of the paper. “Ben,” he 
asked, “ you ’re my friend still, are n’t you 1 ” 

“ Oh, yes,” cried Ben, surprised. 

“Take that back,” said Marshall, giving him 
the paper. “ Take it away.” 

Ben’s effort had entirely failed. “But, Mar- 
shall,” he stammered, “ won’t you tell me about 
that trouble between you and Chester— your side 
of it, I mean ! ” 

“ Not now,” answered Marshall, gently. “ Some 
day, perhaps. Go quickly, Ben.” And Ben, 
ashamed to acknowledge what he had done, went 
and returned the paper to the boy now unhappily 
searching for it. 

Before he could go back, the bell resounded in 
the corridors, calling the classes to their last les- 
sons of the day. Ben and Marshall saw each 
other next in the class for mathematics, and re- 
ceived the always unwelcome news that there was 
to be an examination. Paper was handed round, 
questions were written upon the board, and the 
boys were presently hard at work. In the room, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


217 


for a long while, there was to be heard nothing but 
the scratching of pens and the shuffling of shoes. 
But toward the end of the hour the master de- 
scended upon Ben. “ I ’ll relieve you of this,” he 
said. There was a stir in the class as the boys 
saw him pick up from the floor near Ben’s desk a 
folded paper, the familiar school-room note. At 
the end of the hour reluctant Ben carried the note, 
within another note, to Mr. Holmes. 

Mr. Holmes, seated in his study, read them both, 
and his countenance grew grave. “ Shut the door, 
Ben,” he said. Ben, sullen-faced and dejected, 
obeyed. “ Ben,” began Mr. Holmes, “ you under- 
stand that Mr. Grillett accuses you of cheating in 
examination ? ” 

“ I did n’t do it, sir,” said Ben. 

“ The note reads : ‘ What ’s the answer to the 
third question ? ’ Did you not write it ? ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ Do you know who did ? ” 

“ I can’t tell you, sir.” 

“ I did n’t ask you to tell me,” answered Mr. 
Holmes. “ But you say that you did not write the 
note, and are unwilling to tell who did?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Very well done, Ben,” commented Mr. Holmes, 


218 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


in a tone that made Ben uneasy. He had chosen 
his ground well ; he believed that he could not be 
reached: but as Mr. Holmes sat and studied the 
note he felt that more was to come. The gravity 
of the head-master’s face, his lengthened silence, 
portended a good deal. But Ben waited until Mr. 
Holmes spoke. 

“ I am not a handwriting expert,” began Mr. 
Holmes. “Besides, this scrawl is like any other 
boy’s scrawl. Your stand is very clever, Ben. 
You defend yourself; you shield the rest of the 
class. And yet,” Mr. Holmes’s voice was very 
quiet and gentle, “ for the first time in my experi- 
ence I find it necessary to tell a boy that I don’t 
believe him. Partly for this reason : no boy would 
ask you the answer to any question in mathe- 
matics; but partly, Ben, from what I know of 
your character. Do you still say that you did 
not write this ! ” 

“ I do, sir,” muttered Ben. 

“ Then,” said Mr. Holmes, rising, “ I am going 
to submit this question to your classmates. You 
have put it out of my power to judge you myself.” 

Ben saw that the tables were turned. He had a 
wild desire to cry out as Mr. Holmes opened the 
door. But it was too late. Mr. Holmes stopped 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


219 


a boy that was passing, and sent him to summon 
the second class in mathematics. Again Ben sat 
in silence while the boys assembled in the room. 
Rawson, Marshall, Chester, Jack Bray, and all the 
rest, were presently together. 

“Boys,” said Mr. Holmes, “Ben has denied 
that he wrote this note, which was found near his 
desk in the examination. That leaves an accusa- 
tion upon the class in general, a matter in which 
I feel that I would best not interfere. I am going 
to leave you alone with Ben. You can look into 
the question yourselves; you can report to me 
what you decide, and suggest to me, if you come 
to any conclusion, the punishment you think 
proper. I shall be in the next room.” 

He went out and closed the door behind him. 
The boys in silence looked at Ben, and he, steal- 
ing glances at them, saw on their faces strong in- 
dignation. He remained seated till one of them 
should speak. All, after a while, looked at Chester 
to take the matter up, but he, as Ben was Mar- 
shall’s room-mate, signaled to Jack Bray. Jack, 
therefore, spoke. 

“ We won’t ask Ben,” he said, “ to say anything 
about the note. Mr. Holmes told us what he said ; 
if Ben has told a lie, he need n’t tell it again. It 


220 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


comes to a matter of truth between Ben and us. 
If any boy here wrote the note, let him say so.” 

There was silence. 

“Ben,” began Jack, again, “says he did n’t 
write the note. I say I did n’t write it.” 

“ I did n’t write it,” said Rawson. 

“ I did n’t write it,” said Chester. 

So said the other boys, one after another, till the 
turn was Marshall’s. He, with a glance of pity at 
Ben, finished the circle : “ I did n’t write it.” 

There was another silence while the boys waited 
for a word from Ben. But they waited in vain. 
He felt that now, when he least expected it, he 
was being judged by all his past acts, and knew 
that his reputation was telling against him. 
“ Some one call Mr. Holmes,” said Jack, at last. 

Mr. Holmes came in, and looked from one to 
another of the boys. “ Well? ” he asked. 

“We can find out nothing, sir,” reported Jack. 

Mr. Holmes sat down. On his forehead was a 
frown of pain, and his voice, when he spoke, ex- 
pressed the deepest disappointment. “ Very well, 
boys,” he said. “ I shall consider the matter for 
another twenty-four hours. You may go.” 

One by one the boys filed out, Ben last of all. 
Taking heart, he plucked Jack’s sleeve. “ Jack—” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


221 


“ Don’t speak to me, Ben,” said Jack. 

“ Oli, I say,” protested Ben. He turned to an- 
other boy, forcing a smile. “ Charlie—” 

“ Don’t speak to me,” said the other boy. With 
the others he walked on, but Ben stopped short. 

The weight of his punishment came down upon 
Ben suddenly. Nothing could have more com- 
pletely expressed the boys’ complete confidence in 
each other, their absolute disbelief in him. They 
walked along together, and Ben turned away by 
himself. 

He wandered miserably about alone. He began 
to perceive where too great cleverness could lead 
him. He saw that to be a good companion, a witty 
writer, a merry singer, were nothing to the fact 
that his word could not be trusted. Going back 
again to the school, he saw that his classmates, 
espying him, went away before he could come near. 
He went to his room and found Marshall there. 

“ Ben,” said Marshall, “ why don’t you—” 

Ben interrupted him so angrily that Marshall 
said no more. They answered the bell for supper, 
but Ben could scarcely eat. After supper Ben 
noticed that the members of his class went to- 
gether, as by agreement, to one of the empty class- 
rooms, and shut themselves in. 


222 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Curiosity and fear together drew Ben to that 
door. He hung about, but dared not enter, or 
even to go close. What were the boys planning? 
He went away, but was drawn back again irresisti- 
bly. At last, gathering courage, he opened the 
door and went in. 

“ Here he is now,” said some one. Ben winced. 

The boys had been sitting together, talking 
quietly. Now they rose, and the face of every 
boy was serious. Ben stood before a company of 
judges, and as a trembling came over him, Jack 
Bray spoke. 

“ Ben,” he said, “ I guess you know what we ’re 
thinking. We think we know who wrote that note. 
The class is disgraced, Ben, unless some one owns 
up.” Jack laid much stress upon the some one. 
“ And I think the school will feel itself disgraced, 
too, when it knows. No boy has ever yet lied to 
a master here.” 

He paused a moment, and shrinking Ben saw 
from his face that something more was to come. 

“ The school does n’t know yet,” went on Jack, 
“but it has got to know, and we have decided to 
tell all the boys to-morrow at twelve. If before 
then some one does n’t own up, we have promised 
one another not to speak to you until some one 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


223 


confesses. Marshall has asked to be allowed to 
speak with yon, and we ’ve granted it. None of 
the rest of us will. And what we do, I think the 
school—” 

The school would do as well ! Ben knew it, and 
he quailed. No more dreadful punishment could 
be devised than to cut him off from speech. To 
avoid that punishment, to shift the disgrace, he 
had only one frightened thought: to put the 
blame upon some one else. 

“ I ’ll tell you now who wrote the note,” he cried. 
“ It was the boy who sat behind me ! ” 

The boys looked at each other. Presently Mar- 
shall spoke : “ I sat behind you.” 

“Then you did it,” accused Ben. “You know 
you did it.” He forgot the many weeks of com- 
panionship with Marshall, forgot all but the surest 
way to get further evidence against him and in 
favor of himself. Believing firmly that Chester 
would seize the opportunity to injure Marshall, 
Ben cried : “ Chester saw you do it.” 

Marshall, his head bent forward, during the ac- 
cusation watched Ben’s face with gleaming eyes. 
Since the afternoon he had carried about with him 
the thought that expulsion was hanging over him, 
the belief that Chester had told to the masters 


224 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


tales about him. He had trusted in Ben as his 
last friend in the school. Now he saw that last 
friend turn against him. Too long tortured by 
Ben’s insinuations, too confused by this attack to 
think clearly, anger and despair crowded together 
in his breast. While the boys stood astonished, 
he turned to Chester. 

“ Speak up, Chester,” he said. “ Tell the boys 
that I ’m not to be trusted. Tell them more. 
Tell them that I smoke tobacco. Tell them I drink 
whisky. Tell them that you saw me write the 
note.” 

“ Marshall ! ” cried Chester. 

“Won’t you tell them?” asked Marshall, bit- 
terly. “ Do you prefer to speak behind my 
back? Well, then, I ’ll go. Tell the boys when 
I ’m gone.” 

He turned and went away, leaving behind him 
a breathless group. He went to his room and sat 
there. All was a whirl in his brain, a black con- 
fusion. His last dependence was gone. Ben’s 
desertion left him utterly amazed, and almost 
prostrate. Marshall sat while the boys in the 
corridors, warned by the bell, went to their rooms. 
Last of all, like a whipped dog, Ben slunk into the 


room. 



“HE WOULD NOT STAY TO HEAR FURTHER WORDS, BUT CLAMBERED 

OUT UPON THE GUTTER.” 

















































































THE JUNIOR CUP 


227 


“ Ben,” said Marshall, quietly, “ I saw you write 
the note.” 

Ben burst into passionate sobbing. He implored 
forgiveness. “ I forgive you,” answered Marshall, 
with a lifeless calm. Ben could not get him to 
say more. They remained so, Marshall and the 
boy who had so terribly injured him, until the last 
bell rang. Then they went to bed in silence. 

In the first daylight Marshall rose, dressed him- 
self completely, gathered a few things together, 
and put them into a bag. 

“ What are you going to do ? ” cried Ben, who 
had waked and watched him. 

“ Ben,” replied Marshall, “ I am going away. I ’ve 
failed in everything here. Chester is against me ; 
it is n’t like him, but he ’s been telling tales. Mr. 
Holmes must be against me, as he ’s considering 
expelling me. Chester believes he found me 
drinking whisky in the mill; that ’s enough to 
expel any boy. It was your whisky, Ben. I have 
done nothing wrong; I will not wait for the 
disgrace.” 

Ben could only gasp and sob. Marshall knotted 
a fish-line to his bag, opened the window, and low- 
ered the bag to the ground. Then he turned to 
Ben. “ Ben, good-by.” 


228 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


“ Marshall,” cried Ben, struggling with the rem- 
nants of his wretched pride, “wait ! I—” 

“ It ’s after five, Ben,” answered Marshall. “ I 
must be going. Good-by.” He would not stay to 
hear further words, but clambered out upon the 
gutter. Then, as on the first night of his stay at 
the school, he climbed down the spout to the 
ground. 


CHAPTER XIII 


ARSHALL took one look at the 
long school building, and then be- 
gan to walk away. For the last 
time he had been to school— for 
the last time ! 

It was all his own fault, he supposed. Hot Ben 
had failed him, nor Mr. Holmes, nor Chester. 
Marshall had no accusations to make. So often 
had he failed that he had no more confidence in 
himself. He had a regret that he had not won 
Chester’s friendship, and he wondered, as he went, 
how things had managed to go wrong. Surely 
he had tried to do his best. He had a dread 
of the pain that he would give his mother. But 
Chester would be glad to have him go, and to 
his mother he would say : “ Let me stay with you 
always after this. Or let me go to work, earn my 
own living, and be a man.” No more schools, no 
more hope of college. Marshall gave everything 
up. 



229 


230 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


But behind him Ben— as Marshall had done that 
year, as Chester had done two years before, as every 
boy sooner or later must do— fought with himself. 
He saw himself for what he was, saw all the harm 
he had done, and was ashamed. But he perceived, 
as well, that there was yet time to remedy the 
evil, and with every moment precious, Ben did 
not struggle long. The good in him conquered. 
He dressed quickly, and, half sobbing, ran to 
Chester’s room. 

Chester and Bawson were already awake, dis- 
cussing the events of yesterday. While they lis- 
tened in complete surprise, Ben told them every- 
thing: his unlucky guess on the first night of 
the term ; his unwillingness to let the matter rest ; 
the affair of the cigarettes; the whisky at the 
corn-mill— one by one he told these. At the story 
of the whisky, Bawson turned to Chester. “ And 
you never told me ! ” he exclaimed. 

“I could n’t,” answered Chester. “Till I was 
sure ; it was n’t fair.” And Bawson forgave him. 

Then, hardest of all, Ben confessed his latest 
faults: that he had deceived Marshall with the 
master’s notice, had written the note in examina- 
tion, and accused Marshall to shield himself. 
“ And oh,” he finished, “ Marshall has run away ! 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


231 


But lie has done nothing wrong. Can’t you bring 
him back ! ” 

While he spoke, Chester and Bawson had been 
dressing. Now they went to the window and 
looked out. Still visible, trudging dejectedly 
away, was Marshall’s figure. 

“We can!” exclaimed Chester. “We can! 
Bawson, come on ! ” They left the room, ran 
down the stairs, let themselves out at a lower 
window, and at once, at a quick trot, set them- 
selves upon Marshall’s path. 

It was plain where he was going. Electric cars 
passed within a mile of the school, and he meant 
to take them as far as to the railroad. His way 
was across the fields, the view was open, and keep- 
ing him in sight, they ran faster. But Marshall, 
apprehensive of pursuit, from time to time glanced 
behind, and presently saw them. “ He ’s running ! ” 
they cried together. 

Now it was a chase. He had a long start, but 
was weighted by his bag; they overhauled him 
rapidly. Yet the road was not far off, and sud- 
denly, skimming the bank beside it, Chester saw a 
flat roof with a long pole slanting up. “ Oh,” he 
gasped, “ the car ! We ’ll lose him ! ” 

“ Come on ! ” responded Bawson. 


14 


232 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


They ran on. Marshall disappeared from their 
sight at the same time as the car dipped down into 
a cut. They could not tell if he were in time to 
stop it. But when they reached the bank above the 
road, the car was speeding away in the distance, 
its conductor mindless of a figure that stood wav- 
ing and despairingly shouting. The boys de- 
scended to the road. 

Marshall was ready to drop. He had run fast, 
carrying his bag ; his emotions and his disappoint- 
ment were almost too much for him. Chester and 
Rawson were of all people the two he least wished 
to see. But he checked the angry sobs that were 
rising, and faced them defiantly. “ I sha’n’t go 
back to school,” he declared. 

“ Marshall,” answered Chester, “ will you let us 
speak with you 1 ” 

He saw that Marshall was swaying as he stood, 
shaking with his deep panting. But Marshall 
turned away. “I ’m going on,” he said, and 
started after the car. Chester and Rawson fol- 
lowed behind him for a little while, then they 
ranged up beside him. 

“Marshall,” began Chester, again, “Ben has 
been telling—” 

“ Don’t speak of Ben ! ” commanded Marshall. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


233 


“ I must,” answered Chester, gently. “ Ben—” 
Marshall stopped abruptly and set down his 
bag. He faced the two boys once more. “ Well, 
then,” he said, “let us talk. But let me speak 
first. No,”— as Chester would have spoken again, 
—“let me speak. Chester, you are not the fellow 
I took you for.” 

“ Ben—” began Chester, again. 

“ Leave Ben out of it. I came to the school, 
Chester, with an admiration for you. Are you 
surprised? I did. Two years ago I treated you 
shamefully. I acknowledge it. All this time I 
have been ashamed of it. All this time you have 
been a kind of ideal to me : I never did anything 
without asking myself what you would think of it. 
Do you want to know why ? I was sorry for what 
I did; I believed you were a good fellow; I was 
trying to make myself like you. Astonishing ! ” 
There was a world of irony in his voice, but 
Chester smiled. 

“You smile? I wish I could. Chester, on the 
very first day I came you began to set the fellows 
against me. You missed two chances to put me 
off: the nine. I did n’t know why, at first. Yester- 
day I discovered. You were working to have me 
expelled from the school. Oh, I am glad that I 


234 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


have found you out ! Yet sorry, too ! ” In his 
voice, irony gave way to reproach. 

“ Marshall,” began Chester, for the third time, 
“ Ben—” 

“ What has Ben to do with it f ” demanded Mar- 
shall. “ Ah ! ” 

A singing began in the wire overhead. A sec- 
ond car was coming. Chester suddenly saw that 
he might be too late. “ I never did these things 
against you ! ” he cried. “ It was Ben— he invented 
it all. We saw him just now; he told us— he is 
sorry for all he has done.” 

Marshall looked upon him unbelieving. “You 
never told any one about the Junior Cup?” he 
asked. 

“ Never ! ” answered Chester, firmly. 

“ Nor Mr. Holmes about the tobacco ? Nor the 
whisky ? ” 

“ Never ! Never ! ” answered Chester. 

The car was drawing near. Marshall took up 
his bag. “ Perhaps,” he said scornfully, “ you will 
even say I am not to be expelled ? ” 

“ No ! ” cried Chester. “ That was Ben’s story 
again.” 

“ Ben has told us,” asserted Rawson. “ And Ches- 
ter never told even me about the whisky.” 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


235 


The car was about fifty feet away. Marshall 
held up his hand to the mot orman, and said no 
more. “ Marshall ! Marshall ! ” cried Chester, in 
despair ; but Marshall’s face was of iron. The car 
slackened speed, the brake ground heavily, then 
the car stopped near the boys. Marshall turned 
one look on each of the others. “ Good-by,” he 
said, and stepped toward the rear platform. 

But a figure, and then another, descended from 
the car, and Marshall stopped short. Chester’s 
heart leaped. There was Mr. Holmes, with shame- 
laden Ben. 

“ Go on,” said Mr. Holmes to the conductor. 
The car started on. Mr. Holmes faced Marshall. 
“ I have brought Ben,” he said, “ to testify to the 
truth of Chester’s story.” 

Ben, fearing that Chester would not succeed in 
catching Marshall, had gone to Mr. Holmes and 
once more made his confession. The head- 
master, foreseeing just where Chester’s mission 
might fail, namely in proof, had hastened with 
Ben, and caught the car higher up the line. Stand- 
ing there, all five together, Ben for the third 
time acknowledged his deeds, down to the very 
smallest. “ And if I am expelled for it,” he fin- 
ished, “ it ’s all true.” 


236 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


Confusion whirled in Marshall’s brain. Old pre- 
judices, obstinate beliefs, struggled against new 
light and truth. But they were beaten. His eyes 
began to shine, his mouth to smile. He turned to 
Chester and held out his hand. “ Then we shall 
be friends ! ” he cried. 

“ Friends ! ” responded Chester, clasping hands 
gladly. 

“ But,” asked Rawson of Mr. Holmes, “ Ben will 
not be expelled ? ” 

“Always standing up for some one?” inquired 
Mr. Holmes. “ No ; Ben shall not be expelled— if 
he has learned his lesson.” 

Ben, from his heart relieved, mumbled that 
he had. 

“ But how,” asked Marshall, still looking into 
Chester’s face, “ can I pay you for all your patience 
with me, Chester ? ” 

Patience Chester had had— wonderful patience. 
But 1 he laughed the praise away. “Win the game 
to-morrow,” he answered. And then, amid smiles 
that hid tears, they started back toward the 
school. 

Mr. Holmes studied Marshall’s face. The strain 
of the last fortnight was visible upon it : the boy 
was thin and pale. “How much he has had to 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


237 


bear ! ” he thought. “ Who would have suspected 
Ben ? A strange discipline this has been, to bring 
the best out of each boy. But Marshall needs 
rest.” He waited until they had reached the 
school, now just awaking, and then spoke. 

“ Marshall,” he said, u I should like you to go 
down to the hotel this morning at nine; never 
mind lessons for to-day. You may stay at the 
hotel until bedtime, if you choose.” 

“I?” asked Marshall. “The hotel— until bed- 
time ? ” Then he understood. “ Oh, Mr. Holmes, 
my mother is coming ? ” 

“ To see you pitch in the game,” he answered. 

There was no baseball practice that afternoon ; 
all the players were resting for the great game. 
Who was happier that day than Marshall? more 
satisfied than Chester? more quietly pleased than 
Mr. Holmes? more thankful than Ben, to have 
done no more harm than he did? Marshall went 
to the hotel at nine, and spent the day with his 
mother. The story which he had to tell her was 
so long, and so frequently interrupted, that it 
lasted until bedtime. In the morning all the char- 
acters of this story, even Stukeley, were on the 
baseball field, to play or to watch the game. 

But oh, the sad hearts of the Stonefield boys as 


238 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


they saw the game begin to go against them! 
Marshall was batted, batted, batted. Run after 
run came in. “ He has no control of the ball,” 
cried the boys. Mrs. Moore almost wept as the 
boys on the benches near her scolded angrily. The 
Stonefield nine scored, in truth, but they were so 
far behind that it seemed hopeless. Yet Mr. 
Holmes came to her and said: “Wait. The game 
is not lost till it ’s won. Marshall is pitching bet- 
ter every inning.” 

How badly he was pitching he knew. The stress 
he had been under had worn him long ; the des- 
perate hour of his running away had told on every 
nerve ; and when that was past the happiness of un- 
derstanding had almost finished him. His mother 
had petted him ; the explanation with Chester had 
been sweet beyond words. He had scarcely slept 
in the night. And now in the stress of the game 
it took him a lojig while to recover himself. 

The rest of the nine played faultlessly; they 
saved many a run by their fielding. Twice long- 
legged Jeremy gathered in liners that promised to 
be home runs. Twice Rawson stopped fierce 
grounders, touched the runner, and made double 
plays. Chester let no ball pass, caught at the 
plate all the time, threw marvelously to second, 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


239 


and terrorized the base-runners. “ They ’re saving 
me from myself,” thought Marshall, and struggled 
to do his best. No one reproached him. “ Don’t 
speak,” warned Chester, “ to the man at the wheel.” 
The nine appeared cheerful. “ All right,” they 
said to Marshall. “It ’s going all right. We ’re 
only a little way behind. A home run with the 
bases full would even put us ahead.” “Ah!” 
groaned Marshall, “ but we sha’n’t get it.” 

It came. In the fifth inning Marshall made a 
base hit. By Woodstock errors the bases were 
filled. Then Chester came to the bat. He was 
the best batsman. The crowd at the benches 
ceased to shout. This was Stonefield’s chance; 
would Chester take it? He stood at the plate 
quietly and let balls pass till strikes were called on 
him — once, twice. Then he got the ball he wanted, 
and swung at it. Crack ! Oh, the confusion, the 
exhilaration, the mad, mad racing and shouting, of 
that short minute ! The left-fielder ran and ran 
and ran. Chester passed first and second bases 
and neared third. Then the ball began to travel 
back. Chester saw and took the risk. The ball 
reached the catcher’s hands as the Stonefield cap- 
tain, with a long slide, touched home base. Stone- 
field was one run ahead. 


240 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


And then for three long innings steadily they 
struggled. Marshall at last began to pitch as he 
should; neither side scored. They stood as they 
were through the sixth and seventh and eighth 
innings; the ninth began. The Stonefields were 
first at bat; the Woodstocks shut them out. And 
then, when the Woodstock batters took their turn, 
it seemed as if Marshall had once more lost 
himself. 

The first man made a base hit. The fear of 
Chester kept him from second, but the second 
man got his base on balls. Then the third, by a 
bunt, took first, and the others moved around. 
The bases were full, no one was out. All Stone- 
field groaned. An accident, a passed ball, a base 
hit, and two men could come in. “ Wait, wait ! ” 
said all the Woodstock coaches. The game was 
almost certainly theirs. And when the next man 
came to the bat the umpire called three balls and 
not a single strike. 

Chester walked with the ball half-way to the 
pitcher’s box. Marshall met him. The Wood- 
stock players smiled. “Too late. There is no 
trick now that can save the game.” Chester, as 
he handed the ball to Marshall, looked his new 
friend in the eye. He gave a smile of confidence. 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


241 


“Now, dear boy,” he said. He walked back to his 
place, adjusting his mask. 

And Marshall felt like a giant at the words. 
There was still time. He and Chester could yet 
win the game together. One thing more was 
wanting. He looked among the spectators until 
he found his mother’s face. The umpire was im- 
patiently calling “ Play ! ” when he stepped to the 
box again. 

Then Marshall pitched nine balls. 

Do not read, you who have no interest in the 
mystery of curves. The first ball sped for the 
plate ; the batter struck, but the ball shot in and 
dropped. The second was so straight and swift 
that the batter had no time to move. “Two 
strikes ! 79 the umpire called. The third seemed 
straight again; the batter struck. The ball rose 
beautifully over his bat, and the man was out. 

The second came. Marshall threw his first 
ball almost at him. He started back; the ball 
curved out over the plate. “ One strike ! ” The 
second ball seemed to be going far to the other 
side ; the batter stood at ease till it shot in and 
passed him, too late. “ Two strikes ! ” The third 
ball came straight and slow ; he gathered himself 
to strike, and the field held its breath. As he 


242 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


struck, the ball seemed to stand still in mid-air, 
then fall. Chester caught it at his ankles. The 
second man was out. Only one more. 

Only one man more, but he was the most dan- 
gerous— the Woodstock captain. If he were put 
out, the game was won ; but should he hit the ball 
squarely — ! Marshall coolly beckoned the fielders 
m. “ Play for the batter ” ; and he pitched his last 
three balls. 

The first— ah, sickening it was to the batter as 
he saw it change direction as he struck. He tried 
in vain to reach it ; it shot beyond the end of his 
bat, where Chester was standing to receive it. The 
second seemed about to go low, lower than his knees. 
He stood still. It shot up almost to the level of 
his hips, and the umpire called the strike. The 
whole field stirred and murmured as Marshall 
made ready for his last. The Woodstock captain 
braced himself. Marshall signaled the out-drop, 
and threw a slow and easy ball. The batter 
waited ; he was no man to strike too soon. Then 
he almost threw himself off his feet as he struck. 
But the ball, twisting downward and outward, 
passed safely into the waiting hands, and the 
game was won ! 

The school exhausted itself cheering. Marshall 



“ MARSHALL WAS CHAIRED AND SHOULDERED TILL NO ONE HAD 

STRENGTH TO LIFT HIM.” 


































































4 




























THE JUNIOR CUP 


245 


was chaired and shouldered till no one had 
strength to lift him. They carried him round the 
diamond, to the school, and along the whole front 
of the building. They stopped at the spout that 
he had climbed, and shouted till they were hoarse. 
They carried him to the chapel door and sang the 
school song. They brought him into the building, 
and along the echoing corridors bore him in spite 
of his protests. They would not let him down. 
They took him to the dining-room, hung with 
the trophies of former years, and telling him that 
he had won another silver cup to decorate the 
walls, they cheered him till they could cheer 
no more. And then they let him down, and he 
slipped away. 

Mr. Holmes and Chester, as head-master and 
captain of the nine, did the final honors to the 
departing Woodstock team. When they were 
gone, Mr. Holmes sought Mr. Fiske, to tell him 
another story of his boy. And Chester found 
Eawson, who had been waiting. 

“ Come,” said Chester, “ we have n’t had our 
chance at Marshall. Perhaps he ’s in his room. 
Let ’s go there.” They went and knocked. No 
one answered, but they opened the door. There 
sat Mrs. Moore, bending over her boy, who knelt 


246 


THE JUNIOR CUP 


at her feet. They saw that his frame was shaking 
with sobs, that her tears were falling on his head. 
Very quietly they started to withdraw. 

But she saw them, and stretched out her arms. 
“ Oh, dear boys,” she cried, “ you have kept your 
promise. Let me thank you. Come in, come in ! ” 
And Marshall, with a happy face, sprang up and 
brought them to his mother. 





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